


Slices Of Seven

by bjfic_archivist



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-01-18
Updated: 2006-03-26
Packaged: 2018-12-29 19:37:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 29,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12091983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bjfic_archivist/pseuds/bjfic_archivist
Summary: What you need to know:Justin returned to Pittsburgh four months after 513, worked out of the Tudor Country Manor and lived with Brian.  They fought, fucked, loved, yelled, and basically learned to actually be a couple.They still trick, they're not schmoopy, and for reasons you'll only understand by reading "All Mistakes are Temporary" parts I and II, neither one of them is allowed to use the word "fine."Joan, Brian's mother, is dead.Brian drives a blue Aston Martin.  Justin drives an Orange Honda Element.Lindsay left Mel after their relationship turned abusive. She lives in the Carriage house with Gus and JR and is the head of the art department at Allegheny Community College.Ted and Blake are still together, they bought a house a few doors down from Debbie's. They have a pure bred Yorkshire Terrier named Bluebonnet.  They're breeding her.Ben and Michael are together.Hunter and Molly are currently a couple.Justin had a major show in New York in early December.  It went well, got great reviews, and he is now working on living his life and doing some other pieces for commissions and further shows.most chapters are g - PG-13 but chapter 6 VDII is NC 17





	1. Prenuptuial Panic

**Author's Note:**

> Note from IrishCaelan, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Brian_Justin_Fanfiction_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in September 2017. I posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/bjfic/profile).

  
Author's notes: So this is a slice of life, they all will be and not nec. in any particular order. Fluff, sex, maybe a small amount of angst. Mostly just stuff happening after the stuff that happened in ALL MISTAKES ARE TEMPORARY I & II but you don't have to read that to find this amusing.  


* * *

* * *

****

  
Slices of Seven  
Prenuptuial Panic

* * *

Justin was sitting on the floor in what would someday be the library. He’d taken measurements and was doing some preliminary sketches, hating everything he came up with. He was frowning at a blank wall when he heard the doorbell ring as if someone were leaning on it.

Sighing he opened the door.

“Daph.”

“Justin, HELP!”

Daphne seemed to be carrying her own weight in books and magazines. He could barely make out her eyes, and when he saw the panic in them he grabbed an armful of falling catalogs and led her into the great room.

He dumped the heavy books on the floor by the coffee table and then helped her do the same.

“Daph, calm down. What’s going on?”

“I can’t get married, Justin. There’s just no way.”

“What the fuck? Did you and Brad break up?”

“What? No. Why? Did it seem like we were gonna break up?”

“Okay, you’re not leaving Brad. What happened? Slow down. Why can’t you get married?”

Daphne sighed and threw her coat over the back of a chair. She sat down and ran her hands over her face. “We set a date.”

“Daph, that’s great. When?”

“September sixteenth.”

“So do you have something else scheduled for that day?”

“Don’t be retarded, Justin.”

“Then why can’t you get married?”

Daphne gestured at the enormous pile books magazines and catalogs in front of them. “Decisions.”

“What about them?”

“Justin, I suck at decisions, and now I have to make like a hundred of them and they’re all important and I’m gonna fuck it up and have the worst wedding ever and I can’t do this, and Brad refuses, absolutely _refuses_ to go to Vegas and get married by a female Elvis impersonator and…”

Justin was laughing now. “Daphne, calm down. Breathe.”

“Justin…”

“Daph… a female Elvis impersonator?”

“I freaked, there’s too much.”

Justin shrugged, “Hire Emmett, you won’t have to make a single decision.”

“We can’t afford him, and besides, I want to do this. I just don’t think I _can_ do this.”

“Of course you can. Look, it’s like when you finally decided to pick a major, or when we spent the entire weekend trying to find you a prom dress. In the end, you always know what you want.”

“But you helped me with both of those.”

“And I’m gonna help you with this.”

“You are?”

”Did you think I wasn’t?”

“Well, with the show, and then you know, you and Brian and um, I just thought you’d be busy.”

“For your wedding? You thought I’d be too busy to help you with your wedding?”

Daphne blushed. “I’m just scared.”

“Okay, that I get, but seriously, thinking I wasn’t gonna help. I’m too nosy not to help, you should know that by now.”

Daphne smiled, “I do.”

“So you just came here in a panic to ensure that I’d help right now.”

Daphne smiled again. “I did.”

“You’re a dork.”

“So are you.”

“Right, now that we’ve got that out of the way, you want a drink?”

“Beer’s good.”

Justin nodded grabbing a couple from the fridge and then sitting on the floor next to the seemingly ever expanding pile of catalogs.”

“So what’s first?”

“I don’t know.”

“So what’s last?”

“What?”

“Well if we can’t start from the beginning we can work backwards.”

“Okay, well last is us coming back from our honeymoon.”

“Which will be in…”

Daphne shrugged, “That’s up to Brad. I do the wedding, he’s picking the honeymoon destination.”

“Okay so what’s the last thing you have to plan?”

“Well, um…” Daphne stood up and began pacing. “That’s what I don’t know. That’s where it all gets jumbled. There’s the church…we got that, that’s how we set the date, Brad really wanted it at his family’s church.”

”They own a church?”

“Shut up, you know what I mean.”

Justin nodded. “Okay, so the church is set.”

“Yeah.”

“Then what?”

“Then the reception.”

“Where?”

“That’s I guess the next thing.”

Justin nodded and started to sort the books into piles. One large unwieldy one for invitations, one slippery thick shiny one for wedding magazines, and much more manageable pile of brochures and printed web pages for venues. He pulled the venues pile away from the others and motioned for Daph to follow him.

“We’ll check these out online, make notes, and see where we go from there.”

Daph seemed melt, her stress left so quickly. “How do you know how to do that?”

“Do what?”

“Make it all manageable.”

“None of it’s unmanageable; you just can’t do it all at once.” Justin shrugged. “I’m pretty single minded, so you know, I just pick one thing and focus on it.”

“Obsess.”

“Yeah, that too. Shut up. Do you want my help?”

“You know I need it.”

Justin nodded. He pulled another chair next to the computer and logged on. The moment he did he heard a familiar sound.

“Fuck.”

“What?”

“Nothing, I just have to tell Brian I’m busy.”

>   
> adman9x6: Hey, want to come to town for dinner?
> 
> toptwink24: can’t. daph’s having a meltdown.  
> 

“Justin don’t tell him that.”

>   
> toptwink24: sorry, she says not to tell you she’s having a meltdown.
> 
> adman9x6: What’s she NOT melting down about?
> 
> toptwink24: they set a date. september 16th, make sure cyn clears your schedule.
> 
> adman9x6: Still no reason for meltdown.
> 
> toptwink24: wedding, decisions.
> 
> adman9x6: Hire Emmett.
> 
> toptwink24: pricey
> 
> adman9x6: So you’ll help.
> 
> toptwink24: duh
> 
> adman9x6: So I’ll bring something home.
> 
> toptwink24: for three, i think we’ll be here a while tonight.
> 
> adman9x6: Not a problem, and check out Cathedral Hall. They’ve got a great reception facility. [www.pittsburghscathedralhall.com](http://www.pittsburghscathedralhall.com/)
> 
> toptwink24: thanks. we’ll check it out.
> 
> adman9x6: Probably home by seven if no one fucks up the new cosmetics boards.
> 
> toptwink24: k
> 
> adman9x6: Bye.  
> 

“That place is nice, but…”

“What?”

“There’s no way we can afford it.”

“You don’t even know what it costs yet.”

“Yeah but my dad was pretty specific about no more than forty grand for the whole deal, and this place is probably more than that.”

“Do you have a guest list yet?”

“We whittled it down to two hundred.”

“Daphne, do you know two hundred people?”

“No, but between his parents friends, and my parents friends, and our friends and…guuuh. Justin.”

“Mmmmmm?”

“You think YOU can convince him to go with the female Elvis impersonator?”

“You’d be pissed off later if I did.”

“Justin.”

“Mmmmmm?” Justin was scrolling down lists of possible venues. “I have to ask you something.”

“Mmmmmm?”

“Will you be my maid of honor?”

“What?”

“Well, not maid, um… man of honor, I guess.”

“Do I have to wear an ugly bridesmaid’s dress?”

“No, you have to wear a tuxedo and throw me a shower and put up with me when I become an insufferable bridezilla.”

“I was gonna do all that stuff anyway.”

“Yeah but this way you get to stand next to me and make sure I don’t pass out.”

“And Brad knows there’s gonna be a guy standing on your side of the bridal party?”

“We talked about it. You’re my best friend, and Matthew’s probably going to be in it too.”

“Daph, do you have ANY female friends or are they all gay men?”

“Hey, I’ve been a fag hag for a long time. It’s a hard habit to break. So, will you?”

“Yeah. Of course, but you know I’m gonna be in Europe for the summer right?”

“Yeah, I know, but they do have the Internet in Europe, last I heard, so we can stay in touch, and you’ll be back before the wedding right?”

“You know I wouldn’t miss your first wedding.”

With that Daphne attacked him, trying to tickle him into taking it back, which he refused to do.

~**~**~**~

When Brian came home he found the two of them stoned sprawled across the floor of the great room and laughing hysterically at large books of wedding invitations.

He put the takeout in the kitchen and headed upstairs to change. He was back down in sweats, taking a hit from the joint in Justin's hand before either even realized he was there.

“What’s so funny?”

“Look, it’s iridescent, with birds, holding flowers and pearls, and… who buys wedding invitations when they’re fourteen?”

Brian raised an eyebrow and looked to Justin for translation. “Daph thinks it looks like what you’d draw on the back of your notebook when you’re fourteen and have a crush on some guy.”

Brian nodded. “Yeah, that’s what I drew on my notebook at fourteen, birds and pearls and hearts.”

They all laughed. 

“Hey, did you bring food? You said you were gonna bring food.”

“In the kitchen.”

“Anything I’ll eat?”

“I don’t know, are you a vegan this week.”

“Brian, that was years ago, and only because I was dating that guy— what was his name? Um… Echo, or Reverb, or… I don’t know, something earthy crunchy.”

“Right.”

Justin came back carrying the food. He brought three more beers as well. “Chicken, good choice.”

Brian took another hit. “So what have you decided, Daph, any definite plans?”

“Yes, I’m definitely hiring a female Elvis impersonator to perform the ceremony, even if it is in the church with a big reception afterwards.”

Brian was almost stoned enough to find that funny.

“You pick a dress yet?”

“No, first I have to find the hall, then the caterer, then the dress, then the invitations, and then the favors, and the… Oh god, I can’t do this.”

Justin smacked Brian's arm. “I finally had her calmed down, and now you went and got her all worked up again.” He rolled over until he was half on top of Brian. They shot gunned the last hit and put the roach on the stones in the rock garden. 

“This from my stash or yours?”

“You have separate stashes? I thought you guys were practically married.”

Brian shrugged. “He keeps his chocolate and weed locked in the studio. I just need to know if I have to restock.”

“It’s from my stash, which I steal out of your stash anyway, so it’s not like it fucking matters.”

Brian nodded, eyes half closed. “Any decisions yet?”

“Yeah, we’ve decided we’ve done enough groundwork for one day.”

“And I can’t afford cathedral hall. That place must be like five hundred bucks a head.”

Brian shook his head. “I know a guy, who knows a guy.”

“You know a lot of guys.”

“Yeah, but this guy owes me.”

“They’re gonna cut the cost of my wedding in half? Brian, even you aren’t that great a fuck.”

“Actually, he is. But don’t tell him that, his ego is already too big.”

“Actually I am and my ego is the perfect size for my talent but that’s not the point. The guy owes me because we did the advertising and web design for him.”

“You did the web design?”

“Yeah, I hired a couple of guys who specialize in that shit. Total geeks, but they keep the branding continuous through websites and shit, so he was one of the first clients we did. Got him huge business.”

“You really think he’ll cut me a deal?”

Brian shrugged. “Ask him. Wednesday, after I tell him to expect your call.”

Daphne squealed and threw herself on Brian, who laughed and pushed her off. “Justin’s gonna get jealous and mopey.”

Justin laughed, “I haven’t done that in years. Oh, and I’m going to be the maid of honor.”

“The fuck you are.”

“Brian.”

“You wearing an ugly bridesmaid gown with a jumbo bow on your ass. No.”

“Man of honor then, I’m wearing a tux.”

“Okay.”

“Glad I have your approval.” Justin rolled his eyes, and sat up to grab another piece of chicken. 

~**~**~**~**~**~

Eventually they all crashed. Brian laying on his back. Justin’s head was on Brian’s shoulder. Daphne’s head found it’s way to Brian’s thigh, her hand laying under his shirt on his stomach.

He woke up for a minute and realized she’d blush and apologize embarrassedly when she woke up. He smirked and closed his eyes again, too stoned and comfortable to find it anything but amusing.


	2. Where the Heart Is

  
Author's notes: jsut a little daph/brian convo  


* * *

* * *

****

  
Slices Of Seven  
Where The Heart Is

* * *

“Grrr”

“Do I even want to know?”

Justin looked up “What?”

“You’re growling at something.”

“This stupid design for the mural.”

“It’s your design.”

“That’s how I know it’s stupid.”

Brian took the page out of Justin's hand and looked at it. “It’s um…”

“Stupid. Horrible. Nonsensical. Overdone. Annoying. Ugly…”

“I was going to say bland.” Brian was laughing a little.

“Brian I’m blocked. Don’t laugh at me when I’m blocked.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t laugh at you when you can’t come up with a decent ad slogan.”

“Yes you do.”

“No I just laugh at the bad ones you come up with before your genius kicks in.”

“Well that’s what I’m doing, laughing at the part where your genius hasn’t kicked in yet.”

“What if it never kicks in? I’ve never done anything this big before. Maybe I can’t do it.”

“Of course you can.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

“I never lie to you.”

“But you can’t KNOW that I can do this.”

“There’s really not much I don’t know. I thought you understood that.”

“You know what, fuck you.”

“Okay, if that’ll get the creative juices flowing.”

“That works for you, not me.”

“So what works for you.”

“That thing you hate.”

“Which thing? I hate a lot of things.”

“The thing where I lock myself in the studio and don’t come out 'til the idea’s set.”

“Do that if you need to. But no more than 18 hours between meals. And if you die in there call first.”

“Call you before I die?”

“Yeah, so I can come in and kick your ass.”

“So you’re not gonna nag if I disappear for a little while.”

“I don’t nag.”

“Not having THIS argument.”

“Which argument are we having?”

“None. I’m going into the studio and I’m not coming out 'til I have a worthwhile plan for the mural.”

Brian looked at his watch. It was after eight pm. “Eat something first. And I expect to see you for dinner tomorrow.”

“Brian…”

He shrugged. “Then I’ll take the door of the hinges and you can spend all the time in the studio you want…”

“Brian…”

“We’re not doing this again.”

“I’ll be out by seven tomorrow night.” He leaned in and kissed Brian.

“WAIT”

“What?”

“Eat something.”

Justin grabbed an apple and a beer. Brian frowned but let it go. It had been months since Justin had pulled an all-nighter in the studio. Justin had put back most of the weight he’d lost from his little love affair with self-destruction. One night wasn’t gonna kill him.

He kept trying to remind himself of that as he heard the music blare from the studio. Justin was okay now. It was pointless to worry.

He made himself a sandwich and grabbed a beer for himself. Logging on to the computer to check email and see work on some projections for Brown Athletics new womens wear line.

And IM popped up from Daphne. He was startled and realized that Justin’s account must have logged on automatically.

> imlistening: hey I need an opinion.
> 
> Toptwink24: It’s Brian. Justin’s locked himself in the studio.
> 
> Imlistening: fuck, should I be worried?
> 
> Toptwink24: I’m not. He’s fine. Working on the mural.
> 
> Imlistening: Will you give me your opinion?
> 
> Toptwink24: let me log in as myself. If I’m gonna get hit on by a bunch of online trolls while I’m talking to you, I at least want them to be trolling for me and not Justin.
> 
> Imlistening: k   
> **  
> Toptwink24 has logged out.**
> 
> **Adman9x6 has logged on.  
> **  
>  Adman9x6: You there Daph?
> 
> Imlistening: here.
> 
> Adman9x6: Is this a wedding opinion?
> 
> Imlistening: yes, I guess, sort of, um…
> 
> Adman9x6: Sort of? I think you should definitely fuck him BEFORE you marry him. No point in waiting for the wedding.
> 
> Imlistening: STFU, I fucked him before I dated him.
> 
> Adman9x6: That’s my girl. What happened to “never getting married, never being tied down?”
> 
> Imlistening: I was 17
> 
> Adman9x6: Far be it from me to prevent you from making a mistake. I don’t meddle in other people’s lives.
> 
> Imlistening: That’s the biggest lie I’ve ever heard you tell.
> 
> Adman9x6: I’ve told bigger.
> 
> Imlistening: like the 9x6 part.
> 
> Adman9x6: That’s true, and you know it.
> 
> Imlistening: whatever, that’s only because you wander around naked all the time.
> 
> Adman9x6: In my own home. You’re the one always barging in and staring.
> 
> Imlistening: how did a conversation about my engagement and real estate issues become a conversation about your cock?
> 
> Adman9x6: Everything eventually becomes about my cock.
> 
> Imlistening: not my wedding.
> 
> Adman9x6: so what’s the real estate issue?
> 
> Imlistening: he hates my place “too collegiate”
> 
> Adman9x6: what about his place?
> 
> Imlistening: very single straight guy bachelor pad.
> 
> Adman9x6: looking to rent or buy?
> 
> Imlistening: that’s one of the questions at hand. His lease is up in August. So is mine. So we figure we should get a new place together. But buy vs. rent. And where, and what, and fuck, I don’t know how to do this.
> 
> Adman9x6: Doesn’t Chad?
> 
> Imlistening: Brad. and no. he inherited the place from his brother, who graduated two years before him. I inherited my place from my previous roommate. Never actually looked at apartments/condo’s /houses before. 
> 
> Adman9x6: So what do you WANT to live in?
> 
> Imlistening: I want a renovated Victorian.
> 
> Adman9x6: and he wants a clean, new construction condo? Or a white picket fenced mc mansion?
> 
> Imlistening: have you been talking to him?
> 
> Adman9x6: I’ve watched this before. It’s fun when it’s not me.
> 
> Imlistening: I found a place that’s perfect for us. Two bedrooms, two baths, second floor of a renovated brownstone beautiful hardwood floors. cozy rooms. Relatively updated kitchen, in our price range, available in July.
> 
> Adman9x6: And his problem with it is?
> 
> Imlistening: he thinks it’s too old, none of the doors fit, heating will be a nightmare with radiators, all the rooms are too small, the kitchen is too tiny to entertain, no room for the baby to play.
> 
> Adman9x6: BABY? Daph, something Justin hasn’t told me? Something you haven’t told Justin?
> 
> Imlistening: no. no no no no no no no no no. that’s the thing, we’re YEARS, DECADES before that. This isn’t the place for a baby, but who wants a baby, now…or even ever. And he’s picking out which one will be the nursery.
> 
> Adman9x6: Sorry, I’m not laughing at you.
> 
> Imlistening: yes you are.
> 
> Adman9x6: Yes. I am.
> 
> Imlistening: so he wants the picket fence mc mansion with the back yard and the golden retriever NOW.
> 
> Adman9x6: and you want.
> 
> Imlistening: how the fuck should I know, I still think I might have been right at 17
> 
> Adman9x6: so call it off
> 
> Imlistening: Fuck off.
> 
> Adman9x6: you asked for my opinion. He wants you barefoot and pregnant. You want Jimmy Choo’s and a career as a therapist.
> 
> Imlistening: not forever, but for now yes.
> 
> Adman9x6: Call Justin’s mom. She’ll show you places that might work. And stick to your guns.
> 
> Imlistening: even if it makes him unhappy?
> 
> Adman9x6: Don’t give up what you want to make someone else happy. Ever.
> 
> Imlistening: but he shouldn’t either.
> 
> Adman9x6: he’s not. He’s postponing it. He wants something too soon. Besides the housing bubble will burst and you’ll get a mc mansion for less later.
> 
> Imlistening: you sure?
> 
> Adman9x6: I know everything.
> 
> Imlistening: Pfft.
> 
> Adman9x6: so you’ll call Jenn?
> 
> Imlistening: who?
> 
> Adman9x6: Mother Taylor.
> 
> Imlistening: yeah, probably best idea.
> 
> Adman9x6: Good
> 
> Imlistening: think Justin will go with me to scope out potential places?
> 
> Adman9x6: Not while he’s barricaded himself in the studio.
> 
> Imlistening: right, I’ll wait a few days.
> 
> Adman9x6: Not too many, more than two and I’m making him get his own place.
> 
> Imlistening: mmm hmm, I believe you.
> 
> Adman9x6: Fuck off.
> 
> Imlistening: I’m going. tell Justin I said hi.
> 
> Adman9x6: I will. 
> 
> Imlistening: thanx Brian.
> 
> Adman9x6: don’t thank me; I just started a fight between you and Brent.
> 
> Imlistening: Brad. G’night.
> 
> Adman9x6: Good Night.
> 
> Imlistening: has signed off.


	3. Vanity Sucks (and not in a positive life affirming way)

  
Author's notes: little teeny tiny slice  


* * *

* * *

****

Slice of Seven  
Vanity Sucks  
(and not in a positive life affirming way)

* * *

“What the fuck happened to your face?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Brian, there’s something wrong with your face.”

“There is not.”

“You went and got that botox thing didn’t you?”

“Maybe.”

“Great, now you look like a wax figure.”

“But look, no wrinkles on my forehead.”

Justin rolled his eyes. “You never had wrinkles.”

“No I had deep creases from worrying about YOU.”

“Pfft. Like I’m the only one who makes you worry. And I didn’t give you wrinkles. The fact that you’re a million years old did.”

“A million huh?”

“Awww, you can’t even do that eyebrow thing anymore.” Justin moved closer running the pads of his fingers over Brian’s paralyzed forehead. “I’m gonna miss that.”

“Well, it’ll be back eventually.”

“Yeah but then you’re just going to shoot poison into your face again.”

Brian shrugged.

Justin shook his head. “I’m not fucking you if you can’t make a facial expression. I’m just not.”

“Justin, don’t be…”

“What? Insane? You’re the one who told me I’m insane. Direct quote. ‘You’re batshit insane and I can’t live my life without you.’ So if you want to live with this batshit insane me, then you’re gonna have to be able to raise an eyebrow.”

Brian tried, but it wasn’t gonna work today. “Shit.”

“Yeah, well, let me know when you can smirk again and I’ll let you know when I’ll fuck you again.”

“Does that include blowjobs?”

“It includes any and all contact between my body and your cock. Any part of my body. Any part of your cock.” Justin kissed Brian then and turned to head back to the studio.

He was surveying a half complete sketch of the mural and biting his thumbnail. He was pissed off. Brian had mentioned the stupid botox treatments before, but he’d thought it was a joke. When he realized it was serious he had tried to convince him against it. But now he had this stupid plastic face instead of Brian’s features.

_Hell Brian is hard to read on a good day_ , he thought to himself. _How the fuck am I supposed to read him when I can’t even see what expression he’s trying to hide._

He went back to sketching, ignoring the sound of the TV from the den, and the incessant channel flipping that mean that Brian was angry and not watching anything in particular but simply hating everything three seconds at a time.

~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**

It was hours later when Justin finally came out of the studio. The mural sketches were finished. His next step was to order supplies and get the scaffolding set up. He was starting to get excited about the project.

He ate half a pop tart and headed up to bed. It was well after two am. Brian was probably asleep.

Brian was NOT asleep. 

Justin ignored him while he brushed his teeth and threw some water on his face, and crawled under the covers. He still wasn’t speaking to the waxwork man on Brian’s side of the bed.

He felt Brian's hand slide over and run down his chest. He pushed it off.

Brian rolled over and began kissing Justin’s neck. He moved further away from him.

“Really?”

“Really.” 

“What the fuck Justin.”

“I thought we agreed you weren’t going to do this.”

“No, you just made it clear you didn’t want me to.”

“But that wasn’t enough reason to cancel the appointment?”

“Not really. The world is about youth and beauty sunshine. I’m just trying to keep up.”

Justin faced Brian head on, his face showing his aggravation clearly. “It’s not about youth and beauty Brian. It’s about vanity. Your stupid fucking vanity. Did it ever occur to you that I LIKE your face?”

Brian just stared at him.

“Right now, you’d have some kind of expression. But I don’t know what the fuck you’re feeling. Are you angry, amused, turned on, upset? I can’t tell because you can’t move your fucking face. Don’t you think we have enough communication issues without your having your entire face paralyzed with poison?”

Brian laughed then. “You are fully queening out.”

Justin pushed Brian’s hand off of his shoulder. “That’s because I’m living with the worlds biggest queen.”

“Justin, It only lasts a couple of weeks.”

“So for a couple of weeks I don’t get to see you furrow your brow, or raise an eyebrow, or fuck, even smile. You. Suck.”

“I can still do that.”

“Don’t even think about it.”

“Justin, be serious.”

“I’m dead serious Brian. I’m not fucking an expressionless automaton.”

Brian's hand moved down Justin’s chest again, his fingers sliding beneath the waistband of his shorts and stroking the soft short hairs above his cock.

Justin picked up Brian's hand and purposely moved it to the man’s own crotch. He shook his head. “Nope.”

Brian tried to pout, but he couldn’t. “Fuck.”

“See, you can’t even make puppy dog eyes at me. So you’ll just have to wait 'til you can.”

Brian dropped his head in frustration. “You’re a pain in the ass you know that?”

Justin nodded. “I do. But in all fairness, this time I’m not the one who broke the rules.”

Brian sighed and wondered if the doctor had any way to reverse the botox. He wasn’t sure he could wait two weeks.


	4. Insanity Is an Aquired Taste

  
Author's notes: Just another slice, with a tiny bit of angst.  


* * *

* * *

****

Slices Of Seven   
IV  
Insanity Is and Aquired Taste

* * *

Brian heard the door slam. He glanced at the clock. Six twenty-seven. He was late. Justin had an appointment with Doctor Blackstone today. 

He heard the thud as Justin threw his bag on the floor. Sighing, he headed downstairs to see what had him upset. Brian found him sitting on the sofa in the den, biting his thumbnail and staring into space. 

"What's wrong?" he asked, leaning against the door frame.

"Nothing." 

"Uh huh." Brian counted backwards from five. _Four, three, two, one._

“Dr. Blackstone thinks I should stop taking my meds. Well, we talked about it; I guess we both think it's time to stop taking all this shit.” 

“You both think? Or he thinks?” 

“He thinks... I guess I agree, I mean I can't just fucking take this stuff forever.” 

Brian walked over to the sofa and perched on the arm. “When was the last attack?” 

“Um... A little after we got back from New York. So it's been like a month.” 

“There’s something you can take if you have one?” 

“I can use Xanex for that. Or just breathe through it.” 

“Okay.” He nodded slowly. “You feel ready?” 

“I don't know. I don't want to aggravate you like I did before. And I don't really feel like falling apart again.” 

“Yeah, watching you disintegrate isn’t exactly on my to do list either but if it’s time, if you’re ready…” 

“So I guess I stop, and we see what happens. If I fall apart... well, then we'll know I’m incurably insane.” 

“Not insane, just a little… off. Call it a side effect of life with Brian Kinney.” 

“I am NOT off... I’m... um... insane. Even insane sounds better than off. And insanity is not a side effect of living with you... it’s a prerequisite” 

“Well it’s a good thing you’d already taken that course then.” Brian stood up and pulled Justin with him. “Come on. Let's get some dinner.” 

“If I tell you I’m not hungry, is it gonna become a thing?” 

“Yes. Go pick a menu.” 

“Grrr. Fine.” 

“You know, you’re still not allowed to use that word.” Justin smiled, and moved ahead of him into the kitchen. Hanging back for a moment. He cleared his throat. “So... in your conversations with Dr. Blackstone… did you figure out why?” 

“Why what? Why one has to be insane to live with you?” 

“Why... ” _Shit._ Justin idly flipped through take out menus, and Brian rubbed the back of his neck and tried to figure out how to broach this subject without having Justin take off running. “Was this shit happening when you were in New York?” 

Justin turned around and rolled his eyes. “You were in New York... Yeah it happened there too. It’s not a Pittsburgh thing.” 

“Glad to know it’s not me. But... ” Brian furrowed his brow, at least as much as the damned botox would let him. “Do you know what it is? What it was? Did something happen that you haven’t told me?”

Justin sighed. “No… it’s not about one thing, but… yeah, I guess I understand what it was now. But it doesn't matter, right? It's over. At least I think it's over. I guess we'll find out.”

“Justin, something scared the hell out of you... keeps scaring the hell out of you. That...” he took a moment to search for the word, “bothers me.” _Shit._ Brian took a few steps backwards, trying to distance himself, trying to gage Justin’s reaction, trying to figure out what the fuck had been haunting his blonde.

“I know it bothers you. That's what I’m trying to avoid: bothering you. That's why I’m not sure it's time to stop taking the stuff. I mean... I don't want to do that to you again. To _us_ again.”

“Fuck that. Stop if you’re ready.”

“Yeah, but... I mean, how long can you put up with that kind of bullshit? How long could I expect you to? Look, if it's gonna bother you... I won't go off them.”

“No. This isn’t about what I want. If you don’t need them, don’t take them, and if stuff comes up… we’ll deal. I just... Whatever it was, I don't want it to happen again.”

“It might though. I mean, if I keep taking these stupid pills or not... I can't promise that, Brian. I still get scared. I still have...” Justin sighed deeply. “Never mind.” He turned his attention back to the takeout menus.

“What?” 

“Pizza or Mexican?” 

“Still have what, Justin?” 

“Brian, trust me when I tell you that you do NOT want to have this conversation. It's just going to piss you off. And make me sound more insane than I do right now.”

Brian took a step forward again, wishing Justin would stop sorting the menus and look at him. Justin’s head remained resolutely down. His eyes never left the stack of flyers.

“You don't sound insane.” 

“So you're not gonna trust me?”

“Seems it’s about you not trusting me.” Justin put the menus down. He leaned against the kitchen counter, biting his thumbnail again and obviously having an inner debate about how much to reveal. “Fucking tell me.” 

“It's stupid.” 

“Anything that can destroy you like that isn’t stupid.”

“That's the thing... it's the stupidest reason to go crazy ever. So let’s pretend it didn't happen, order dinner, and then we can go upstairs... and not talk at all.” He offered a smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“I invented the let’s fuck and avoid the conversation strategy. You can’t use it on me.”

“Sure I can.” Justin moved closer to him, pressing his body against Brian's. 

“You know what you’ve done to me?” Brian leaned his head back as Justin scratched his teeth at the spot just below his Adam’s apple. He bit back a groan. “You’ve made me the man who is about to say this… Not right now, we need to talk.”

Justin shrugged his shoulders and moved away from Brian, evidently annoyed at the failure of his little sex ploy, and probably aggravated with himself for bringing up any of this in the first place. It was obviously a conversation he didn’t want to have.

“Seriously, Brian. Nothing I say is going to make sense. Nothing I say is going to help you deal with it if it happens again. Nothing that I say can change how crazy I am, so please, let’s just drop the whole fucking thing.”

“Fuck you. I want to know and not just how to fix it. I want to know what had you so scared that you hurt yourself. I want to know why you won’t fucking trust me with this. Justin, just fucking tell me what the hell happened.”

Justin’s face was unreadable for a moment. Then his skin was mottled with rage.  
“I was scared because I was happy! There, can we drop it now?” 

Justin stormed off towards the deck but Brian grabbed his arm before he could leave the room and take off. He’d done it before and it could be hours before he came back. Brian wasn’t willing to risk that this time. He wanted to understand this, and he wasn’t sure he could. 

“No, we’re not dropping it. What the fuck? You were scared because you were HAPPY?” 

Justin sat down at the table and put his head in his hands. “I told you it's stupid.” 

“No. It's not stupid. I just... I don't get it. Explain it to me, slowly. Use small words.” 

Justin shot him a look that was definitely dangerous. He took a deep breath and started. 

“Look, since I came out to my parents... I can count on one hand the times I was TRULY happy. And every time I was... I mean every time I thought finally, all this bullshit is over... something happened. Brian, I couldn't imagine being as happy as I was when you showed up at my prom. I couldn't breathe. I couldn’t think. I could only smile, and then... and then I got into PIFA, and my fucking father pulls the money out from under me, and I had to come crawling to you.” 

Brian closed his eyes against the pain he always felt when he thought about prom, but the next sentence had hurt even more. _’Crawling back?’ When did he feel like he was crawling back?_

“Even with... even when... when I thought I’d found something _real_ , real romance... well, that pretty much felt like another bat to the head. And you proposed, Brian. YOU PROPOSED TO ME!”

“Jesus.” Brian said softly, starting to understand a little. But it didn’t stop Justin’s flow. 

“…and then I was gone. You were gone... _We_ were gone. Brian have I EVER been happy for more than a couple months without it almost killing me? Ever? Why the fuck would I trust happiness?” 

Justin's eyes finally met Brian’s. Brian tried to break in, to tell him he understood, but Justin didn't stop, didn't seem able to stop.

“How could I trust happiness? How stupid would I have to be to do so? And then… I... I... came back--”

Justin looked up to see Brian nodding, listening intently. Apparently finally getting it. 

“--and I had EVERYTHING right! You, this house, my show. I mean that's what I’ve been dreaming of since... well, forever. So you know... sorry if it scares me that when _this_ rug gets pulled out from under me there will be no safety net. I’m going to fall and crash hard. And I’m not sure if I can recover from that fall.”

Brian took a step forward, wanting nothing more than to hold Justin. To keep him from ever facing any fall, let alone one that would destroy him.

Justin allowed him to move closer but brushed off his attempt at an embrace. He was still talking, he couldn’t seem to stop… “Brian, there was a bat coming to my head... I just didn't know which shadow it was hiding behind. I’m sorry. It's not about trusting you... or not trusting you. It's about fate having it in for me. I must have been like, really evil, like Dick Cheney evil in another life the way my karma works.” 

Finally, Justin allowed Brian’s arms to close around him. “I’m sorry, Brian,” he whispered against his chest. 

“No. Nothing to be sorry for. Nothing.” 

“Yes, there is. I can't even enjoy being with you, being happy with you. I can't just... be... because I’m always waiting to fall again. To fail again. I know this is all gonna go away, no matter how hard I try to hold on to it.”

“No, Justin... ” 

“…and I don't know what I’m gonna do when I lose it again.” 

Brian's arms wrapped a little tighter around Justin’s waist, pulling him close, holding him as if he could protect him from everything if they just stayed like this. He could feel Justin shaking. Feel him holding back his tears. He held on, hoping Justin would let it out, maybe they could exorcize some of these demons. But Justin didn’t cry.

“You’re not gonna' lose it, not any of it. Not me, not the house, the car, your... fucking amazing talent... Not if I have anything to do with it. And no one fucks with Brian Kinney. Not even fate.” 

“But what if you don’t have anything to do with it? Brian, that's the problem, you can't promise me that nothing will happen. Most of the bullshit was stuff that you couldn’t have stopped if you tried. And you did try. I know you did. You can't promise me we'll be together forever. I know that I love you. I know that you love me. Hell, we thought Mel and Lindz loved each other too, and now they're... gone. Well Mel is. And someday I’ll lose the house. Someday you'll get tired of me, or you'll move to New York or...” 

“NO. Justin, listen to me. This is your home…” 

But Justin wasn’t listening, he wasn’t done.

“…and I’ll lose you, and the first place I’ve considered home in six years.” 

“YOUR home.” 

“Brian, I know. It's our home. I know that.” 

“No, you don't.” 

“I just said I did. I’m just being realistic” 

“This place was never my home. Never _a_ home. Not until you got here.” 

“But you'll find another home, Brian. The loft was your home for years. Someday you'll change your mind again. I can enjoy what we have now. I can hope it lasts…” 

“You know what? You're right.”

But Justin was no longer listening to him. He was pacing back and forth, talking. Spouting theorems and proofs that there was no hope that this happiness might last.

“Justin… listen. I know that realistically, forever is a long fucking time, and well... I can't promise that I'll be around forever.” 

Justin looked up from his diatribe and the fear in his eyes was something so familiar to Brian that he almost stopped. He almost agreed with Justin that it was time to order dinner and forget this, but this had to be resolved. _The fucking kid thinks I’m gonna kick him out._ He tried a little harder to get Justin's attention.

“Fucking cancer… Hell, I could get hit by a bus. We don't know. But Justin--” 

“Stop it, Brian.” His voice was shaking a little.

“--this will ALWAYS be your home. And I want that. I want to know that even if we’re not together, if something happens, or I fuck up, or you get sick of me… I want to know that you still have a home.” 

“You want me to be here without you? _I_ don't want that, Brian. I don't want to be without you. But if I am... I’ll have to figure out what to do. Where to live. This house is yours. It's not mine. There has to be something for Gus.” 

Brian shook his head. “Come here.” He grabbed Justin’s wrist and lead him towards the study.” 

“…and we have no... Where are you taking me?” 

“Sit.” Brian pulled some papers out of the wall safe and tossed them onto Justin’s lap. 

“When did we get a wall safe? What the fuck are these?” 

“We’ve always had a wall safe. Fuck, I guess I should have shown you that before. Anyway, those are the legal documents regarding the house. It’s the fucking deed.” 

Justin sighed. “Yes. I know, you bought the house... I get that. Brian, it's not about your commitment.” 

“LOOK at it, Justin.” 

“I know you're not planning on going... Why is this in my name? When did this get put in my name?” 

“It's always been in your name.” 

“Brian... this is your house. You bought this house.“ 

“For you.” 

“The house is mine?” 

Brian nodded 

“Mine?” 

Brian sat down next to Justin, entwining their fingers.

“It was always yours.”

“So I can kick YOU out?” 

Brian laughed a little then. “If that's what you want.” 

Justin shook his head adamantly. “Really not. Can I lock you in?” His smile was less than angelic. 

“Sure.” 

“What about YOU? I mean you pay the mortgage.” 

“What about me?” 

“You really trust me that much?”

Brian shrugged. “You’ve given me enough reason to. Yes, I trust you that much. And hey, it’s worked out so far… I still live here, don't I? I like to think that I contribute in my own way.”

“The house is mine?” 

“Yes.”

“I mean in a million years when the mortgage is paid off?” 

“Fifteen years, but yes.”

“No one can take this from me?” 

“Not even the bank. You’ve got equity. And you can throw me out.” 

“Really?” 

Brian leaned into Justin then, whispering into his ear. “Yours, Justin. Your house. Your bedroom. Your studio. Your stupid little refrigerator where you hide your chocolate and MY stash…”

“Really?”

“No matter what.” 

Their foreheads were together, their noses practically touching. “Call it a safety net.” 

“It's a pretty big net. Plenty of room for two.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Of course you know this means that rightfully I should be paying some of the bills.” 

Brian sighed loudly and dropped his head onto Justin’s shoulder. “Can we argue that some other night?” 

“Sure.” 

“Are you gonna stop your meds?” 

“I guess now that I have a safety net…” 

“Big enough for two.” 

“I’ll stop, but if I get too crazy I’m taking them again.” 

“No shit.” 

“So, the most important thing that I need to know is…” 

Brian sighed and braced himself for whatever demand was forthcoming. 

“Pizza or Mexican?” 

He smiled. “Definitely Mexican.” 

“Pizza it is,” Justin grinned. “After all, it’s my house.”


	5. VD!

  
Author's notes: Just a tiny Slice in time for...  


* * *

* * *

****

Slices Of Seven  
V  
VD!!!

* * *

Justin heard Brian come in but ignored him. He was angry and wasn’t sure what he wanted to say just yet. He heard him go upstairs and tried to collect his thoughts. He tried to fight the urge to storm up after him and confront him. He was debating his options when Brian leaned against the doorframe of the den looking surprised.

“I figured you’d be in the studio.”

“I’m not.”

“I see that.”

Justin stood up to walk away, he still wasn’t sure what to say and he wasn’t going to start this conversation until he knew exactly what he wanted to say. He refused to let Brian squirm his way out of this one. Brian grabbed his arm as he attempted to storm past him. 

“What’s wrong?

“You’re an asshole.” He tried to maneuver around him but Brian had effectively blocked his exit.

“Wow, three days since anyone’s called me an asshole might be a record. Any particular reason for your thoughtful reminder, or is this just a random update?”

“You know why.”

“I know lots of reasons why. What specific reason are we fighting about today?”

“Brian, fuck off. You’re an asshole and… Hey, you can move your face.”

Brian smiled and raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, cool huh?”

Justin almost forgot how angry he was, it had been weeks since they’d fucked. And it was his own fault. He’d made the rule, he’d stuck by the rule and now… and now Brian was smirking at him, and…FUCK! Making puppy dog eyes at him. Justin forgot his anger for another moment and by the time he remembered it again he was straddling Brian on the sofa. His hard denim clad cock grinding against Brian’s. 

“I’m still mad you know.”

Brian nodded. His hands sliding under Justin’s sweatshirt, his thumbs rubbing against his nipples. “I’m sure you’ll tell me why when you’re ready.”

“Do you know where I was this afternoon?”

“The paint loft?”

“Well, yeah, but after that.”

“No. Where?”

“At Lindsay’s.”

“So?”

“So she has this huge bouquet of flowers. And at first I was upset. I thought Mel had sent them, but then she assured me they were from you.”

“Lindsay’s had a rough year.”

“And do you know where I was BEFORE I went to the paint loft?” Justin was having trouble focusing on his anger, or his words now as Brian's hands slid beneath the waistband of his jeans, his hands cupping his ass as he pulled the denim taught against his hard cock. He swallowed his moan and continued. “I stopped at the diner where Deb couldn’t help showing off the huge bouquet of roses she’d gotten. But they weren’t from Carl Brian. They were from you.”

“Vic always sent her flowers. She misses him, even with Carl around.”

“And my mother called Brian. MY MOTHER CALLED to thank me for the flowers. I pretended I knew about them, she assumed the were from US. Brian, you sent my mother flowers.”

Brian's hands were expertly undoing the button and fly on Justin’s jeans now. But he swatted his hands away before he lost all ability to think. “Brian, do you have any idea how that makes me feel?”

“Grateful that you look like such a good son?”

Justin tried to move, to stand up but Brian’s hands were wrapped around his waist and held him there. He felt Brian's hips rise. He felt the gentle rhythm as Brian tried to change the subject without talking. 

“Brian, stop it.” Even to his own ears he sounded unconvincing. His body was on fire. He wanted Brian. He needed Brian. His brain was almost shut off. His only thoughts were _Brian want need now need now want want want want want need now Brian want need now need now now now_ he squirmed out of Brian's grip and stood up. “Stop it.”

Brian sat up and sighed. “Why are you mad?”

Justin was pacing now. In part because he was angry, and hurt, and in part because he needed to keep moving or he would be on top of Brian again, or under him… he shook hi head and paced in the other direction.

“I was fine Brian, I was FINE.”

“You’re not allowed…”

“Shut the fuck up. I was fine; I accepted that today would go by without comment. No problem. I love you. You love me. Brian Kinney doesn’t do Valentines Day. FINE. Then I go to the diner and I find out he does. I go to Lindsay’s and I find out he does it twice. My mother fucking calls me to thank me for the flowers that I DIDN’T SEND. So Brian Fucking Kinney does Valentines Day just not for _me_.”

Justin sat down. He was done, out of stuff to say, and holding back his tears. It hurt to think Brian didn’t care enough to even send him a single flower. He felt dejected and ignored, and like some stupid housewife who had been taken for granted. 

He was further categorizing his emotional turmoil when he found himself laid out on his back, Brian's body pressed against his. “Not now Brian.”

He struggled which only made Brian smile. “Did you really think I’d forgotten about you?”

“Didn’t you?”

Brian shook his head. Smirking. His face just inches above Justin's.

“You…you…remembered me?” Justin was a little intimidated now. Brian didn’t like to be challenged, or confronted, or called out on his romantic gestures. And he seemed less than amused at the moment. Justin swallowed hard. “Did you get me flowers?”

Brian shook his head again, slowly.

“Did you um…get me something else?”

Brian shook his head once more. Justin was getting more and more nervous and aroused as Brian's body moved against his. “Brian…”

“Tell me what you want?”

Justin’s brain was back to it’s old track _want need Brian need Brian need need need need need_ “You.”

Brian chuckled, “well that’s what I got you.”

“Bullshit.”

“Look” Brian wiggled his eyebrows, grinned in an almost feral way, and then leaned in and kissed Justin deeply, his tongue sliding along the inside of Justin’s lower lip. “You’ve got me. Just in time.”

Justin leaned his head back, pulling away from Brian. “The botox was gonna wear off eventually, and that has nothing to do with why you sent flowers to everyone but me.”

“You really think I didn’t do anything for you for valentines day?”

“I thought you hadn’t.”

Brian shrugged, leaning in for another kiss but Justin turned his head away. “You’re killing me here Sunshine”

“Brian, just tell me, did you get me something or not?”

“Not.”

Justin tried not to be disappointed. “Okay.” He leaned back in to kiss Brian. He hadn’t expected anything this morning, why should the fact that he’d sent flowers to Debbie, Lindsay and his mother make a difference?

“I did make plans, but you’re gonna hate them.”

Justin leaned back again and looked Brian in they eye. “Plans?”

Brian nodded.

“Why am I gonna hate them?”

“Because I have to get off of you right now so we can leave.”

“Are we going to dinner?”

Brian shook his head?’

“Are we going away for the night?”

Brian shook his head again, his grin wider this time.

“The weekend?”

Brian nodded. And Justin smiled too this time. “Really? Where?”

“It’s a surprise, but it’s a couple of hours drive, so you have to make a decision right now…stay here, and fuck…which we haven’t done in weeks. Or leave to go there and fuck. Your call.”

Justin was honestly contemplating. He bit his lip and tried to decide while Brian's hands and body distracted him. Eventually he came to his conclusion.

“Let’s go.”

Brian groaned but relented. 

“What do I need to pack?”

“Nothing, it’s all in the trunk.”

“You packed for me.”

“You won’t be wearing much this weekend.”

“Brian, you know it’s Tuesday, it’s not really a weekend.”

“Shhhh, if Brian Kinney can do Valentines Day, he can call it whatever day he wants.”

“You know that makes no sense.”

Brian shrugged. “We can stay here.”

Justin grabbed his arm and dragged him towards the garage. “Let’s go…the sooner we leave the sooner we get there.”

“Anxious huh?”

“Brian it’s been a really long time.”

“I know.”

“Let’s go.”

“We’re going.”

“When are you gonna tell me where?”

They were out of the driveway and headed towards the turnpike already.

“You’ll know it when you see it.”

Justin rolled his eyes. Then with a wicked smile he lowered his head towards Brian’s lap. Brian did his best to concentrate on driving. And only almost killed them twice while Justin’s talented mouth worked magic he had been withholding for too long. Brian almost pulled off to the right to stop when he came but he somehow held the car steady.

When Justin sat up again his smile was smug. He licked his lips and Brian groaned. “You’re trying to kill us both.”

Justin shrugged. “I just wanted to say think you, in case I forgot later.”

“Yeah, well, I’ll remember that sometime when you’re driving.”

“Mmmmmm, I hope you will. Now will you tell me where we’re going?”

“Nope…you’ll just have to wait and see.”

Justin tried to pout but he was too happy. Brian, Valentines Day, a mysterious destination, and that smirk that he’d missed so much. 

Valentines “weekend” was shaping up nicely.


	6. VD II !!!

  
Author's notes: Part Two Of VD  


* * *

* * *

****

Slices Of Seven  
VI  
VD II !!!

* * *

Justin was surprised when Brian turned the car into the long driveway. He’d mentioned this place, but hadn’t imagined that this is where Brian had planned their “weekend”. It was extravagant. He didn’t have a lot of time to take in the surroundings however. They were apparently pre-registered and Brian was backing him into the suite.

The [ Chateau at Nemacolin Woods ](http://www.nemacolin.com/nem_cms.asp?sectionID=13#) was beautiful. Justin tried to look around a little but Brian didn’t seem interested in anything other than Justin. Justin felt his hands move under his shirt. He felt gentle fingers stroking his back, moving slowly upwards until they were curled into the long blonde hairs at the base of his neck. Justin moved his tongue inside Brian's mouth, standing on his tiptoes 'til their faces were even and his hands were mimicking Brian's movements.

Throughout the intense kiss Justin allowed himself to be led backwards until he felt something against his knees. Brian’s bare chest was pressed against his. Their shirts both bunched up at their shoulders and he let himself fall backwards.

He felt Brian's hands untangle from his hair as he planted them on either side of his head, holding himself over him. His hazel eyes were locked on Justin’s and his intentions were clear. Justin felt himself ready to give in. His body was so very ready. So very very ready. He’d been waiting for almost a month. He wasn’t sure Brian had waited, but from his response. From his many fruitless but somewhat endearing attempts at trying to get Justin to break, Justin had a feeling that Brian hadn’t been hitting the baths, or the clubs, or even the clients to get his needs met. He’d been holding off waiting for Justin to give the all clear. And now that his face was back to normal, he was about to do just that.

They were on the sofa, and Justin used his feet to push himself against the arm and move further up, his entire body laid out, Brian’s body covering him. Brian’s body was an amazing fit. Justin took a moment and contemplated the way their bodies contoured together. Loving the way Brian’s body fit with his. The way, although they were both quite thin, their ribs didn’t grind against each other but instead seemed to almost jigsaw, as if they were made to be just like this. Skin on skin. Denim on denim. Passion on passion, combining until they ignited.

Justin felt Brian move against him, and he moved his hands down to Brian’s jeans, needing to remove them. He needed to feel Brian’s naked and leaking cock against his. He needed to feel the raw need inside him manifested in Brian’s body. He needed to feel wanted. But Brian growled and moved his hands away.

Justin found his hands above his head. Brian's strong fingers holding his wrists crossed and motionless as his body continued to grind against his already flushed and needing body. Justin moved underneath. “Brian, let go.”

Brian shook his head, and leaned in to kiss Justin again.

Justin turned his head. “Brian, let me go.”

He smirked. “I’m going to give you what you want Justin.”

Justin leaned his head back and felt Brian’s moving his head lower. Brian’s hot mouth moving against his jaw and neck. His lips and tongue swirling and his teeth nipping while Justin growled in frustration. Brian smiled against Justin's chest as he expertly sucked and bit at one of Justin's nipples, pulling on it until it was red and hard and Justin’s back was arching in anticipation of more. Brian released Justin's hands and moved his body lower. 

Justin felt Brian's hands rubbing him, cupping his balls through the denim of his now too tight jeans and he thought he might come just from the warmth and soft feel of Brian's fingers moving slowly. When he felt the zipper begin to move down, and then the exquisite sensation of Brian's fingers slowly stroking his hard shaft he bucked into the feeling. Wanting more. 

“Such a wet and horny little boy. Maybe I should have just gotten you candy.”

Justin was almost unable to think. He’d kicked his shoes off at some point before he’d fallen back on the sofa and as the button of his jeans was released he raised his hips to allow them to be removed and left unceremoniously in a heap somewhere beyond his line of vision. Brian was back to kissing his mouth now. His still denim clad body against Justin's almost completely naked one. Smooth comforting, controlling hands pulled his shirt over his head and Justin was naked. Brian had pulled his own shirt off sometime earlier, but was frustratingly refusing to remove his jeans.

Justin's hands moved down towards the button and fly again, and again his attempt was met with Brian’s trapping his hands. This time he held them firmly against Justin's sides as he kissed his way down the thin trail that led to the almost strawberry blonde nest of hair that was just above his cock.

Brian took a small taunting lick at the tip of Justin's leaking cock and Justin growled louder. He knew what Brian was doing. This was a game with which he was intimately familiar. It was fun, and erotic, and it always ended with Brian buried deep inside him, fucking him while he begged for more, for mercy, for Brian.

But Justin didn’t want to beg. His mind went back to the past afternoon. To how ignored he’d felt. For how taken for granted he’d assumed himself to be. And then he thought back on why his need was so acute. Why his body was so demanding tonight. Why it had been so long since they’d been like this. Why for the past few weeks he’d taken to wearing underwear to bed.

At first Brian had accepted the agreement…grudgingly. But less than a week later Justin woke up to find Brian’s sheathed cock pushing into him. Justin had jumped out of bed, angry. Angry at Brian for trying, and angry with himself for allowing the foreplay that he’d been so enjoying to go on so long. Angry for giving his tacit agreement to the proceedings. 

His mind snapped back to the present as he felt Brian move his head between his legs, lifting his thighs over his shoulders. He knew what he was doing. And why.

And that’s when he became really angry. Justin loved when Brian rimmed him. Hell, it was one of the first things he’d ever loved about Brian, and one of the things he’d always love. But, this wasn’t about pleasing him, or opening him up, or tasting him, or relaxing him. This was about making him a quivering pile of need. This was about Brian proving to himself, and to Justin, just who was in charge. This was about Brian wanting to take the control back. This was some sort of sick punishment…all wrapped up in a very hard to resist package.

Justin moved his legs off of Brian’s shoulders and twisted his wrists out of Brian's grasp. He swung both legs over the man’s head and onto the floor. Standing up he found his jeans and sneakers and pulled both on. “I’m getting the bags.”

The February Pittsburgh air was bracing. He popped the trunk and pulled out the two overnight bags, noticing that there was also a large suitcase and a smaller matching one and a duffle bag as well. Brian didn’t do packing light. He pulled them all to the ground, arranged them and carried two of them inside.

When he re entered the suite Brian was still naked but standing up and looking at him.

“Fuck the bags.”

“I want to get unpacked.” Justin crossed his arms and willed himself not to shiver. 

“We can do that later.”

Justin shrugged turned on his heel and went back out for the other items. He inhaled sharply as the cold bit him again. His naked chest felt like it was being slapped with ice-cold hands as the wind whipped a little. Justin resolutely grabbed the last of the luggage. Once it was all inside he pulled them into the bedroom and began to unpack and hang up the items that needed hanging. He knew he was pissing Brian off. He knew he was also confusing him. He never unpacked. Even when he went to New York for two weeks he hadn’t unpacked, so why now?

The answer was simple. He wasn’t sure he was ready to give Brian back control. And if he let the man touch him right now, he was sure that he couldn’t deny him complete control. So instead he unpacked each item.

Putting socks and underwear in drawers.

Filling the nightstand with condoms and little packets of lube. He even bothered to put their toothbrushes in the holder and move their shampoo and conditioner, body wash, loofah and body scrunchee to the shower. He put a few condoms in there as well. He might be angry, he wasn’t stupid.

When the suitcases were empty he took a look around the place. He had to admit it was beautiful. Gracious and classy and way over decorated, but beautiful nonetheless. He took notice of the list of activities available at Nemacolin and a moment to riffle through the complimentary gift basket and find a decent, if small, wedge of cheese and an apple that looked pretty good. He had finally warmed up from his escapade outside without his shirt and sat back on the bed, munching happily, trying not to look too amused at Brian's complete lack of amusement.

Brian sat next to him on the bed and took the apple out of his hand. Helping himself to a healthy bite he let the juice run down his chin and drip on his chest and Justin bit back a small sound and the instinct to lick the juice from his body, slowly…. Instead he watched Brian chew. Fuck. Even that was hot. But Justin was… he was ready to give in, which seemed reasonable considering this was a stupid battle of wills that he’d created in his own head, and was playing against himself. The only one who was really going to lose was Justin. He knew that. If he resisted… Brian would probably get frustrated and go fuck a bellman. If he gave in…they both won. What the fuck was he doing?

Justin had finally come to the realization that Brian was borglike and resistance was futile, at about the same time that Brian had apparently decided that he wasn’t battling for control. He was simply taking it.

Before Justin could think of some dignified way of extricating himself from his earlier hissy fit he found himself flat on the bed, arms above his head and Brian's mouth on his. This time he put all thought elsewhere. He pushed all anger anywhere but here, in this bed, on Valentines Day with Brian, and let himself just feel.

~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~

Brian had at first felt truly bad that Justin thought he had forgotten him on Valentine’s Day, but as they drove towards the resort, and as his post orgasmic high wore off he became a little more aggravated.

He had actually gone out of his way to do something that was uncharacteristic, and he’d been working really hard on being better about shit like this for a while.

He’d put up with the stupid “no fucking until your face can move” rule. And that was even stupider than the “no kissing anyone but me” rule that they’d set all that time ago. But he’d let it go…well, sort of. Justin had a tendency to let his guard down when he was almost asleep. Brian had tried to use that in his favor but Justin had more control than he’d originally given him credit for. And then the punk ass kid started wearing underwear to bed. What the fuck? So now Brian was driving towards a ridiculously expensive, ridiculously romantic suite for the “weekend” and Justin had assumed he wouldn’t even make a gesture today. He lit a cigarette and held Justin’s hand. Forcing himself not to be angry. He’d changed. He knew he’d changed, and Justin knew he’d changed, but that didn’t mean that Justin could just automatically expect things that for so long he’d been told not to expect. 

Besides, after that insane argument they’d had a couple weeks ago, when Justin had decided to stop his meds. Brian tried not to think too hard about how much it bothered him that Justin still assumed that the two of them weren’t permanent. He still wondered sometimes how much damage his “I don’t believe in love. I believe in fucking. I’m not your boyfriend. We’re not a couple. No matching Vera Wang’s” did to him. He was a kid, and hell, it was ingrained into him. It was practically an indoctrinization. Hitler youth weren’t that well trained. Brian tried to think about something more positive, but he couldn’t shake the little persistent thought that Justin was so sure they weren’t permanent because he’d raised him to think that way.

By the time they pulled up the long driveway Brian had only one thought on his mind. He had only one Valentine’s Day wish. He wanted Justin to want him. He needed Justin to need him, and to feel that need in every inch of him. He needed Justin to be his. To be his quivering mass of need. He wanted to remind Justin of what it was they had, that it was more than sex, and more than persistence, and more than words on a deed and dammit it was more than a stupid Hallmark fucking holiday.

He didn’t even think about the luggage as he backed Justin into the room, and onto the sofa, and there was nothing in his mind but the taste and feel of Justin's skin. Nothing he took notice of but Justin’s movements. His breathing, his body’s reactions, both voluntary and involuntary. And he knew he was close. Was beginning to reach the point when Justin became almost boneless and there was nothing but his need. It was a beautiful place. When Justin was like that, and Brian entered him, it was when Brian felt the closest to him, when their seemed no end or beginning to either of them, they just melded together as a single entity of need and sweat and lust and… and then he felt Justin's legs swing over his head. And he watched in confusion and then concern as Justin threw on jeans and sneakers and took off.

He was about to throw on jeans and follow him, not sure where he’d gone, not sure what had happened. Worried that he’d done something wrong. Worried that Justin was having an anxiety attack and Brian had mistaken it for desire. Seriously worried that he left in fucking February with no shirt on. But as he moved towards his shoes he saw Justin unloading the trunk of the car.

He relaxed… for a second. Why the fuck did he get off the couch while I was rimming him to get the luggage? Brian was annoyed again, and confused. But in a practiced habit he’d had too long to break he went with the emotion that was easiest. Annoyance. He stood, arms crossed and watched as Justin, his lips almost blue from the few minutes he’d been out there brought in two of their bags and then turned and went, still shirtless to get the other ones.

Brian continued to watch him as he meticulously unpacked everything. Brian didn’t say a word as Justin unpacked his dirty gym stuff from this afternoon and put it in a drawer. But it made him realize that Justin wasn’t paying attention to what he was doing. Not that what he was doing made sense if he was paying attention. He NEVER unpacked. Hell, he waited a week and Brian finally hung all _his_ stuff up in New York. Justin hated the whole process but here he was, doing a really good job of hanging everything. He even bothered to put the condoms and lube in the nightstand, and the shower. _well at least he didn’t throw them out_ Brian thought to himself as he continued to watch Justin as if he were watching the odd grooming rituals of a rare endangered species.

He watched him circle the room, and resign himself to the fact that there was nothing left to unpack or put away. He watched him pile the suitcases neatly nesting them inside each other they way the were designed. He watched him push them under the bed. He watched him pick up a brochure and study it intently, and then break open the gift basket and rummage through it with determination. When he finally seemed to find something with which he was satisfied he sat on the bed taking a large bite out of an apple and smiling at Brian.

Brian thought back on the conversation they’d had long ago in which he’d forced Justin to promise to leave anyone who ever hurt him. He took a deep breath. That meant he couldn’t punch him in the nose for acting like such a twat. Then he shook his head. He’d never hit him anyway. He sat down next him, grabbed the apple and took a bite himself. He chewed thoughtfully as Justin watched his mouth.

When Justin’s tongue shot out and licked at his own lips Brian lost whatever control he’d been using and Justin was again under him. His mouth could not get enough of the taste of this boys skin. He tasted the musk and sweat of their earlier activities. He tasted the cold pine and snow infused air from his shirtless jaunt to the car. He tasted some of the apple that had dribbled down his chin, and was still in Brian’s mouth as well, but mostly he tasted Justin. And that was the most addictive and intoxicating taste he knew.

Originally his plan had been to bring Justin to a point of almost painful need and then fuck him until neither one of them had the energy to move. Then they’d sleep maybe eat something, and do it again.

His plan had changed, a little.

The bringing him to painful need was still on the agenda, but this time he had no intention of doing it quickly, or giving him a quick release. He wanted Justin to feel this. He wanted Justin. He wanted to prove to him how much he needed him. And the only way he knew to do that was to create that very need in Justin. To see it and then mirror it back. And so he moved with a freedom and comfort he never got to feel with nameless tricks, but also with a careful precision that he didn’t usually need to employ with Justin. Tonight he was taking no chances.

His hands, his mouth, his body, all moved together. Removing Justin's jeans, leaving him naked, his skin flushed with desire. Brian was still wearing his jeans, the top button unbuttoned. 

He sat back observing as Justin’s body quivered before him. He smiled and stroked along the inside of Justin's leg, moving slowly until his fingers were lightly brushing the inside of Justin's thigh. “You’re so fucking hot.”

Justin’s blue eyes met his and seemed to plead with him as he moved his hand down his chest and slowly lower. Brian just shook his head.

Justin had accepted the rules of the game now. It wasn’t a new game, and it was one that they both always ended up winning. Justin grabbed the bottom of the headboard with both hands, making his back arch and his body seem even leaner.

Brian moved in to kiss at each rib that was now outlined. Licking sometimes, nipping others. Keeping the sensations random. His hands wandering towards Justin's ass. He kneaded the round globes and felt Justin push against his thigh, needing the friction, needing the connection.

Brian moved until he was entirely on top of Justin now. His legs in between Justin’s wide spread thighs. He felt those warm pale thighs wrap around his hips, felt the ankles cross behind him. He wasn’t ready when Justin’s arms came around his shoulders and he found himself on his back, a very horny blonde straddling him.

Brian reached up for Justin’s hands, ready to flip him back over but Justin resisted. He was grinding himself against Brian’s still clothed hard on while his hands rubbed against Brian's bared chest. His fingers swirling and stroking. Then his hands were lower, unzipping, and sliding the jeans off of Brian’s hips. Pulling them all the way past his ankles and tossing them as far from the bed as he could.

Justin flattened himself against Brian now. Their bodies naked and once again fitting together beautifully. Justin was sliding his wet and hard cock against Brian's, watching as Brian tried not to react. “Do you like this?”

Brian said nothing and Justin smiled, kissing his neck and shoulders. Knowing what Brian liked, and how Brian liked it, and knowing that when it came to driving someone over the edge with need, Brian was not the only one in this room with that capability.

Brian closed his eyes, enjoying the feel of skin against skin. Anticipating the feel of being buried to the hilt in Justin's hot tight ass. He could wait though… maybe. Justin was whispering in Brian's ear now, his thighs straddling Brian's torso, his hands running through his soft brown hair. “I know what you want. I know what you’re doing.”

Brian opened his eyes.

“I know you think that I’ll just forget everything if you make me horny enough. I will you know. I’ll forget everything but you. But I know a secret.”

Justin moved his mouth away from Brian's ear and Brian couldn’t focus too hard on what that secret might be because suddenly Justin's delicate fingers, the smooth warm skin of his thighs, the hot feel of his chest were all working in unison to drive all thoughts out of him. And as his nerve endings sparked Justin’s mouth never stopped it’s agonizingly slow decent. Brian tried to move, to take back control, or even just reciprocate a little but Justin shrugged away his attempts. Shifting away from his searching hands, moving slowly as he dragged his entire body down Brian's until there wasn’t a part of them that hadn’t at some point felt fused together and then pulled apart.

Brian felt Justin's hands become more insistent as they pushed at his shoulder and his hip and before he could fully form a thought and resist he was on his stomach and Justin's mouth was on his shoulder blade. He wanted to protest, to roll back over, to go back to where they’d started, Justin in need, Brian in control.

This wasn’t what he’d planned. Justin's voice was low and sexy and teasing. And he should be mad, or amused, he sometimes was when Justin tried to shake his concentration on something by trying to seduce him. Instead he just found that it was working. He silently cursed his body. Cursed himself for not being able to hold on or off…for losing his control… did he ever actually have the control?

That was the thought that flitted though his head so fast that he almost didn’t catch it. But his body stiffened as he thought about it. His plan, the whole drive up here, his plan had been simple, take back the control Justin had wrenched from him with that stupid withholding sex thing. But is that when Justin had the control?

“Stop thinking.”

That he heard. The rest of the words had just been a low rumble, a soft sound. This was a command. He tried, but Christ, control was important and what if the naked blonde who was currently straddling his ass and licking the edges of his shoulder blades had been the one with it all this time?

His body was tense. His neck muscles hurt and he tried to breathe. Justin leaned against his neck, his mouth at his ear. “Relax, you’ve got all the control you’ll ever need, just let me make you feel good.” 

Fuck, that shouldn’t work. It worked. Justin continued to move. He ground his hard cock against Brian. He moved his body lower and licked the inside of his thighs and soon he felt the warmth of his mouth around his ball sack. Rough tongue against sensitive skin. And then the tongue and hands were moving and Brian was letting out low moans that he tried to hold back.

Justin’s mouth was an amazing instrument. He was able to say things that could cut Brian to the quick, scare the hell out of him, or make him laugh the way he did only when he was stoned, or just hanging out with Justin but what he could do with it when he said nothing… that was the real talent.

He felt soft fingers carefully opening him up and when Justin's tongue started to gently probe at his asshole he moved involuntarily, raising himself to his knees a little, giving that tongue better access.

But he felt Justin push him back down. “Don’t move Brian, just let me taste you.” Brian said nothing. He pulled a pillow into his arms and allowed…. fuck who was he kidding, and enjoyed what Justin was doing to him. Soon he was moaning openly. He almost whimpered when he felt Justin pull away. This time he didn’t even consider resisting when Justin's hands pushed him again, moving his body as if it were no more than a rag doll.

Justin was on top of him again, sitting on his thighs he pulled Brian up, kissing him. “What do you want Brian?”

Brian bit at Justin's neck “you.”

“You want to fuck me?”

“Always”

“Right now?”

“Yes.”

“What if I say no.”

Brian looked at him. “Then no.” He wasn’t sure what Justin was getting at. Yes, he wanted him. Hell, he always wanted him, but no, he’d never take him like that… what the fuck was this about?

“Are you afraid I’ll say no?”

“You’ve been saying no for three fucking weeks.”

“But you know what that’s about right?”

Justin was talking, but his ass was moving against Brian's leaking cock, and Brian wasn’t sure what any of this was about right now.

“About my face.”

“I love your face.”

Brian leaned in to kiss him. There were so many things he’d like to do with Justin right now. Conversation was very low on that list.

“Brian, you don’t have to do that, you don’t have to manipulate me. You don’t have to drive me insane to make me want you. I always want you.”

“Want you now.” Brian growled.

Justin moved against him again. “Are you sure? We could go out for dinner.”

“Now.” Brian’s brain was pretty good at multitasking especially when sex was involved. If it weren’t he would never get anything done but at this moment he was reduced to _inside Justin now. Need want need need need want want inside Justin now now now_. 

Justin moved against him again, letting Brian's cock slide along his crack, letting the pre come dripping freely help the head slide between his cheeks. 

Brian pulled back, reaching for a condom.

“Not yet.”

“Now.”

“Brian.”

“Not safe this way.”

Justin leaned in and kissed him, taking the condom from him and opening the wrapper. He rolled it over Brian's cock without even looking. He’d sketched it, stared at it, sucked it, fucked it so many times by now that when it was pressing directly against his ass it wasn’t as if he needed a road map to sheath it. Brian smiled, his hands spanning Justin's waist, reading to raise him up and impale him. “Need to be inside you.”

Justin pulled back a little. “Not yet.”

Brian’s look became dangerously dark. “Don’t fuck with me… or not fuck with me sunshine.”

“Soon Brian, I promise.”

Justin pushed Brian back down on the bed and began again kissing him, licking, nuzzling, nipping, and touching. His hands and mouth using a syncopated rhythm to keep Brian on edge while he made sure that every muscle in Brian’s body was on the same page. Every neuron was firing with the same thought; every single part of Brian wanted the same thing.

“Justin please.”

Justin smiled.

“Please?”

“Justin, I need to fuck you.”

“Need?”

“Please Justin, anything I need to be inside you.”

“I just can’t resist you when you beg.”

Justin climbed atop him then, and lowered himself onto Brian's throbbing erection. It had been weeks and the tight fit was blissfully painful. He bit his lip and threw his head back and Brian's hands found their way to his waist guiding him as he rode Brian's shaft. He knew it wouldn’t take long. They were both so close. Brian reached out for Justin's hand, entwining their fingers as they both stroked his hard cock. A few pumps later he came, his body tightening around Brian, who came deep inside him. Came harder than he had in a long time. 

And as Justin sat gazing at him. He realized that the plan, get to the suite, get him to beg for it, fuck him 'til he knows no one’s going anywhere, then do it again, wasn’t necessarily a bad one…he’d just accidentally made the plan for Justin rather than himself.

~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~** 

The weekend was actually four nights and five days…but Kinney excess can be a good thing. And they both made up for lost time. And made a few important decision. No more botox. No more withholding sex as punishment, (although Justin reserved the right to change that rule any damn time he felt like it) and that they’d come back to Nemacolin again and actually make it out of the room next time.


	7. Falling For It

  
Author's notes: Slice of protective Brian, even when he might not need to be.  


* * *

* * *

Slices of Seven  
VII  
Falling For It

* * *

Brian came home and changed into jeans. Justin was home. He knew that. There were ways to tell. First his sneakers were strewn on the floor of the foyer by the garage door where he usually kicked them off when he came in. There were also, Brian noticed, as he walked through the great room towards the kitchen, about fifteen lights left on. He shook his head wondering if maybe letting Justin pay the utilities would be a good idea. The kid never turned a light off. The other way Brian knew was that he could feel it. There was no stupid mystical connection; it’s just that an empty house feels different. The house feels different when Justin is in it. But where the fuck was he?

He wasn’t in the kitchen or the den. He knocked on the studio door but there was no music blaring, a pretty sure sign that he wasn’t in there. He tried the door. Opening it slowly he looked in. No Justin. Dammit. He wasn’t worried. He told himself that a couple of times and was almost starting to believe it when he noticed the light on in the “library”. 

He pushed open the door and saw him sitting there. His bare feet poking out of his jeans, his knees pulled up to his chin. He was biting the side of his thumb and staring intently at about fifteen strips of wood neatly lined up in front of him. He had one sitting across his knees. He seemed unaware of Brian's presence.

Brian sat down in front of him, his own toes touching the other end of the wood strips which varied in hue from deep mahogany to an almost unfinished looking pine. Justin bit harder on his thumb and squeezed on the broken cuticle until the blood dripped onto the wood in his hand. He studied it intently.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

Justin looked up surprised. “Brian.”

“Yeah, what are you doing?”

“Trying to figure out what color I want the built in bookcases to be.”

Brian took the unfinished wood from Justin's hand and stroked his thumb over the bloodstains. “I vote for the color that isn’t your blood.”

Justin rolled his eyes. “I was reading about this new process where they use animal blood to stain the wood. Apparently it brings out the grain really well and makes it that genuine oxblood color.”

“And they didn’t have a sample of that?”

“I was just considering it.”

“Brian looked at the wood. It’d be too dark.”

“You want something lighter?”

Brian shrugged. “Your call, I’m staying out of the library design remember?”

“Yeah, I remember asking you to, but I changed my mind.”

He smiled. “You did huh?”

“Yeah, I’m stuck, I have no fucking clue what I want this to look like.”

Brian took the sketchpad from beside Justin and held it up to him, displaying the detailed sketches. “Bullshit.” He nudged one of the wood slats with his toe towards Justin’s. “You know what you want. You’re just suffering from brain freeze.”

Justin sighed. “I know. I had a rough day and then I figured I relax and just make some decisions that I knew were right, but I’m… frozen.”

Brian nodded and stood up. He held out a hand “c’mon, let’s unfreeze your brain.”

Justin smiled and took Brian's hand.

When they were both standing Justin leaned in to kiss Brian. Brian felt Justin practically melt into him. He kissed him deeply. Justin had been working on the mural inside the new gym at ACC and they’d seen little of each other in the past week. “So want to tell me what was so rough about your day?”

Justin shook his head. “Not really in the mood to talk.”

Brian's hands were removing Justin's shirt. He was perfectly happy to let Justin talk when he felt like it. He would feel like it… he had no doubt about that. When Brian least felt like hearing it Justin would launch into a deep and meaningful rant about his aggravating day, but it was part of Justin’s charm. Some of the other parts were being demonstrated at the moment.

Brian lifted his arms to assist Justin's removal of his shirt and felt his hot mouth mapping out his chest, and then his abs and he closed his eyes as Justin's mouth began promising amazing things.

He felt Justin's deceptively strong hands on the small of his back pulling him closer and hot breath through the denim of his jeans. He made a move to assist but Justin didn’t need any help. Brian’s jeans were off and he was stepping back and leaning against the wall in moments. He felt the pressure on his slit as his little well trained blonde artist applied just the right amount of pressure. Biting his bottom lip he leaned his head back and ran his fingers through the soft blonde hair that was currently tickling his thighs and belly and Justin moved his head while sucking hard as if trying to simply suck the come right out of him. Brian thought it might be working.

Justin's fingers were sliding down Brian's ass now, settling between his thighs and stroking in small circles, moving slowly, in contrast with the quick thrusts of his tongue and lips. Then Brian felt himself completely engulfed in the hot wet feel of Justin. He felt the head of his cock slide against the rough top of his mouth and then fit tightly into the back of his throat. Justin hummed, and Brian moaned. Justin swallowed and Brian gasped, and when Justin's hands began to fondle his balls and then stroke at his hole. Never entering, just circling gently, all the while sliding his wet red lips up and down the shaft, his tongue making sure to apply flicking licks and paying special attention to the ridge just below the head Brian couldn’t hold back any longer.

His hold on Justin's hair tightened in a practiced notice that he was about to come. It was unnecessary. Justin knew his body as well as he did. He knew what he was doing to him. He felt the kid smile around him and then pull back and suck just on the head, hard, moving his mouth quickly and Brian shot while Justin swallowed. Brian was sure his knees were going to buckle but before he could sit down Justin was leaning against him again. Holding him up against the wall, kissing him, whispering words of love and unbelievably x rated desires as to what to do next. Brian wrapped his arms around Justin, using him for support as much as just giving in to the need to hold him. He allowed the blonde to back him into the great room until they both collapsed on the sofa. Justin lying between Brian's naked thighs, still wearing his jeans.

“You’re pretty fucking good at that.”

“I practice a lot.”

Brian raised his eyebrow. “A lot.”

“Yeah, you know, it’s not a skill you want to let get rusty.”

“No, it certainly isn’t. Brian ran his hands through Justin's hair and kissed him again. He ran his hands down Justin’s back and felt something. “What’s that?”

“Nothing.”

Brian leaned his head up to glance over Justin’s shoulder. “Jesus Christ, what the fuck happened?”

Justin rolled his eyes. “Don’t over react, I was on the scaffolding and I took a step back and slipped.”

“Onto what?”

Justin shrugged. “The floor.”

“From the scaffolding?” Brian was rolling Justin towards the back of the sofa now so he could stand up and get a better look at the damage.

“Brian, it’s seriously nothing. I fell. No damage done.”

Brian ran his finger along a particularly purple mark along Justin’s back and heard him hold back a hiss of pain. “No damage? We’re working from different dictionaries.”

Justin stood up now as well and was walking away. 

“Where are you going?”

“To get my shirt, this conversation will be interminable otherwise.”

Brian pulled him closer and looked at the marks carefully. “What did the doctor say?’

“Doctor?”

Brian sighed. So you fell three stories and then just came home?

Justin snorted. “No, I fell a couple of feet, then I climbed back up, laughed, and cleaned up the mess I made. I painted a little while longer, but just couldn’t get the part I wanted right and then I came home.”

“A couple of feet.”

“Eight feet.”

Brian stared at him

“Fifteen”

Brian continued staring, remembering a scene like this in reverse.

“Eighteen feet, but that’s how high it was, we haven’t gotten to the part that blends into the ceiling structure yet.”

“Don’t they have a harness you can wear?”

“It feels to constricting, I can’t work wearing that thing.”

“You can’t work with a broken arm…or a broken back.”

“Brian, you are blowing this out of proportion.”

Brian poked at the spot on his upper back where his shoulder lade had obviously hit something pretty hard. He saw Justin wince. “Out of proportion.”

“You weren’t this upset when I was running around with a loaded gun.”

“You told me it wasn’t loaded.”

“You knew I was lying.”

“Yeah, I did, and you weren’t there to see me lose it over that. You’re here for this.”

“Can I not be here for this?”

“Sure, but you’re wearing the harness.”

“This is stupid.”

“Something’s stupid. This conversation isn’t it.”

“Are you calling me stupid.”

“Do you wear your seatbelt?”

“Yes.”

“Would you call me an idiot if I didn’t wear mine?”

“Yes.”

“If I were climbing around 20 feet of a basketball gym floor, and I fell, because I wasn’t wearing safety gear, would you mock me?”

“Yes.”

“But I’m not allowed to say anything.”

“Right.”

“And why is that exactly?”

“Cause I don’t want to hear it?”

“Mmmmmm logic.”

“Brian.”

“We could get you a big bubble wrap suit.”

“Brian.”

“I could hire a couple of guys with a net to run around underneath you.”

“That sounds hot.”

“Yeah, but they wouldn’t be.”

“You’re no fun.”

“I’m lots of fun, and you know it. But how much fun are you gonna be if your brain gets exposed to the fresh air again?”

Justin froze. “Not fair.”

“Honest.”

“Brutally.”

Brian tilted his head conceding the point.

Justin sat down. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re not allowed to apologize.”

“Even when I fall off a cliff?”

“Even then.”

“I can’t wear that thing though, I look like a dork.”

“Yeah, guys with gushing head wounds look hot.”

“Brian.” Justin’s tone was warning.

Brian wasn’t really in the mood to stop. The image of Justin falling twenty feet to the floor on his back. The image of Justin broken and healing again, even if there were no hate crime behind it was in the forefront. He wasn’t in any state of mind to just shrug this off. “Wear the fucking thing.”

“Whatever.” Justin got up and headed towards the kitchen.

“Hey.”

“What?”

“Is this one of those… what does Dr. Blackstone call them, ‘self care’ issues?”

“What?”

“Is this one of those things you do, where you don’t take care of yourself. Is this because you went off your fucking meds?”

“No, this is because I’m clumsy and paint is slippery and I was too involved in the work and I didn’t notice how close to the edge I was. I took a step. My back hit the railing. I lost my balance. My arms flailed. It must have looked really funny. I mean, if I were watching I would have been laughing I’m sure. Then I fell, and I kept thinking ‘oh shit, oh shit oh shit’. Then I landed, and for a couple of seconds I couldn’t breathe, or felt like I couldn’t. Then I started moving. Moved everyone away from me. Took a couple of deep breaths. And went back to work.”

Brian nodded. “So you’ll wear the harness?”

Justin shrugged. “I’ll be more careful.”

~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~

Brian made Justin take the next day off from the mural. The next day when Justin showed up Brian was already on the scaffolding, fully tethered. “We’ll look like dorks together.”

Justin smiled and wore the stupid harness. They did both look like dorks. And a lot of people came by that morning to watch the artist make out with his boyfriend on the scaffolding. Not a lot of painting got done. But something important was accomplished.


	8. Who's Your Daddy?

  
Author's notes: another slice. i'm working hard this weekend...so i'm making my muse do the same.  


* * *

* * *

****

Slices Of Seven  
IIX  
Who's Your Daddy

* * *

Brian was walking across the back yard towards the carriage house when Gus spotted him and came barreling towards his knees. He stopped and steeled himself for the tackle he knew was coming. Moments later he was on the ground, Gus laughing and yelling “Daddy”.

“Hey sonny-boy how was school?”

“Good. Where’s Jussin?”

Brian sat up. “Why don’t you call him Daddy Justin?”

Gus looked at Brian as if he’d grown another head.

“You have Mommy and Momma right?”

Gus nodded “Momma doesn’t live with us no more.”

“Anymore.”

“She lives with a cat.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, but Mommy says maybe I can get a dog. Dogs are better than cats.”

“that’s true. Dogs are better than cats. And if Mommy says you can have a dog then you can.”

“I know.”

Brian smiled. he was always pleased to see how secure Gus was with himself, with his relationship with all the adults around him. It’s funny. Brian thought as he watched Gus watch a bug. He considered so many of his own relationships temporary, or unstable but Gus didn’t doubt his place with those same people. Not with uncle Mikey or uncle Ben. Not with Mommy, Momma, or even ‘Jussin’, which is why this was so important to him.

“Gus, listen to me. If Mommy and Momma are both your mothers. Then aren’t Justin and I both your fathers?”

Gus looked up at him and Brian saw a very familiar expression on his face. “Okay.” He went back to watching the progress of a caterpillar across a small gravel trail that ran from the tennis courts to the pool. “I’ll call him Daddy Jussin.” 

 

Brian smiled. “I’ll bet that makes him happy.”

Gus turned to Brian and held out the caterpillar, which had crawled onto his hand and was making it’s way up his arm. “Jussin is already happy daddy. He smiles wif all his teef.” Brian laughed at this. “You’re right Gus, he does.” 

Justin found them like that sitting and watching the caterpillar make it’s way up Gus’s arm, and then onto Brian’s hand and over his palm when he took a studio break. He walked out to join them, smiling ‘wif all his teef’

Hey guys.

“Daddy Jussin look, we found a calipiller.”

Justin looked shocked. His eyes were wide and he couldn’t move. He blinked a few times and stood up. Then he turned quickly and walked back into the house.

Brian explained quickly to Gus that the caterpillar had to go home, and so did Gus and took him back to Lindsay. He made his way quickly back to the house wondering what the fuck had just happened.

He came in to the kitchen but Justin wasn’t there. He found him on the sofa in the den quickly wiping away a tear. He didn’t look sad. He looked angry.

Brian closed his eyes and braced himself for whatever he was about to face. “You okay?”

“Me? Sure. I became a father about ten minutes ago, but other than that I’m great.”

“What the fuck are you talking about.”

“Daddy Justin? Did you tell him to say that?”

“Yeah, because you are. You’re as much his father as I am. Hell, you probably remember more about the night he was born than I do considering my state of intoxication at the time. And you’ve been there for him. Justin, you’re as much his dad as Mel is his mom.”

“Bullshit Brian. Did it ever occur to you that I might want a say in my role in Gus’s life.”

Brian was silent, not sure how to respond. 

“Brian, I care about Gus, you know that. I love him, yeah, I guess like a son. But I’m 24 years old. And he’s always just called me Justin, and that’s worked. And we’re not married. And I’ve never asked you for more commitment than we have now so what the fuck?”

“I wanted you to be recognized.”

“What?”

“You’re more than my boyfriend Justin, and you know that. And when I was at Gus’s school the other day, there was a picture he drew, and the teacher had labeled all the people in it. You were there, with a huge head all yellow hair and teeth.” Justin smiled. “And it said ‘Justin’ and it felt wrong. There was Mommy, and Momma, and Daddy and… ‘Justin’. You’re more than that.”

“So it’s an honorary title?”

“Well, it’s only legal if Mel and Lindz and I all die, but yeah, an honorary father. Gus has two daddies, god help him.”

“Brian you have to check with me before you do shit like this.”

“Why?”

“Because some of use have emotions that we allow to show on the surface and we feel like stupid little faggots when a six year old can make us cry.”

“He can make me cry too.”

“That’s only because when he tackles you he hits you in the balls.”

“Well yeah, but still.”

“Brian, I’m serious. The next child you have. We’re determining my role PRIOR to conception.”

“Next child?”

“Lindz could meet someone and hit you up for a sample again.”

“Sorry sunshine, I think the next child brought into this partnership is gonna be by you.”

“Me?”

“Yeah, trust me, with those eyes, that hair, those cheekbones, your brilliant mind, amazing artistic talent…” Brian's hands were entwined with Justin’s now as he sat beside him and leaned in to kiss him. When they broke the kiss he continued his sentence. “Eventually some dyke is gonna feed your ego just enough and you’ll jerk off in a cup for her. Or even worse.” Brian rolled his eyes now. His hands sliding up under Justin’s shirt. Gently stroking his back, taking care not to hurt the healing bruises from his fall from the scaffolding. “Someday your biological clock will start ticking and we’ll either have to ask Daph, or pay some dyke to carry your kid for you.”

Justin leaned back and looked at Brian. Brian knew there were a million things Justin wanted to say. And another million he wanted to ask. He also knew his fingers now itched to go online and start looking at baby furniture but Brian was talking about a very very blurry theoretical someday. He watched Justin's take in the entire situation. 

They knew each other too well. Justin wouldn’t push it now. Brian knew it would come up again. But he’d always known it would come up eventually. Justin wanted children. Or at least a child. And Brian had once been completely against it. Now he could see the selling points. He was really beginning to enjoy Gus. Maybe he could figure out a way to get someone else to raise Justin’s kid 'til it was beyond the drooling pooping and screaming stage. 

He relaxed as he felt Justin relax against him. He relaxed even more as he felt Justin's fingers deftly work at the buttons of his jeans.

His hands were mirroring Justin's movements. Sliding his jeans down off his hips, tossing them to the floor and running his hands, fingers spread, along the inside of Justin's thighs. He watched as artist’s hands rolled a condom onto his hard cock and then he wrapped his hands around the small pale waist. Spanning it almost completely he lowered Justin’s body onto himself. Brian moaned as he entered Justin. He watched Justin's eyes go dark and hazy with desire as he settled himself on top of him.

He started by just rocking slowly. Squeezing the muscles around his cock until Brian head was thrown back and sounds that felt like whimpers were escaping. Justin’s hands were working his nipples. And when he leaned down for his mouth to follow he slid forward on his shaft.

Justin continued his gentle and leisurely fucking on Brian's dick until neither of them could take it slowly for a second longer. Justin sat up then and Brian joined him. Their arms wrapped around each other, their torso’s naked, sweaty and moving in unison as Justin let one leg fall to the floor, using the leverage to ride Brian in earnest. Brian used his hands to guide Justin bringing him down hard each time. He angled himself until Justin was moaning on each down stroke. 

Justin's hand moved from Brian's nipple to his own hard-on and Brian moved one of his own hands to join him. When he felt Justin about to come he let himself go and they came together. Never stopping the motion or the intensity until they collapsed, Brian on his back, Justin on his chest. Both working at catching their breath. Both stopping to kiss one another over and over again.

“You know.” Justin said. “I’m so glad we never have to worry about you knocking me up.”

Brian chuckled. “Besides you’re already a father to Gus.”

Justin rested his head against Brian's chest and made small intricate patterns on his chest and arms with his fingers. “Yeah, daddy Justin. That’s me.”


	9. Crazy For You

* * *

****

Slices Of Seven  
IX  
Crazy For You

* * *

Justin heard Brian get out of bed but he was too tired to even mumble good morning. Often he joined him in the shower, if not he at least opened his eyes to watch his morning stretch, a sight he never tired of but today he just pulled the duvet back over his head.

The only move he made was to roll over and luxuriate a bit in the residual body heat Brian had left behind. He was deep in REM sleep again by the time Brian finished showering. He never even heard him leave.

Justin didn’t bother to get out of bed for most of the day. He got up once to pee, and somewhere around three in the afternoon he was too thirsty to ignore it any longer and made his way downstairs. He sat on the sofa with a bottle of water and flipped through the channels but there was nothing on but stupid talk shows and even stupider people arguing about ridiculously petty issues in fake courts. He found something somewhat interesting on the House and Garden network about new uses of recycled and re-purposed boat decking that he considered for the library but what he really wanted was to go back to bed.

He did.

Brian found him curled up and half asleep when he came home.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

Brian's hand was on his forehead. 

“What are you doing?”

“Are you sick?”

“No, I’m just tired.”

“For like, three days.”

Justin stretched and yawned. “I finished the mural. I don’t have anything pressing to do in the studio. I thought I’d just take a few day, recharge.” 

Brian nodded. “Dinner?”

Justin shrugged. “Pizza I guess.”

Pizza was ordered and barely eaten by either. 

The next morning Justin didn’t even hear Brian get out of bed. When he finally did decide to brave the world outside the bedroom he wandered around the house aimlessly and then came to an important conclusion.

He logged on to the computer.

>  
> 
> adman9x6: Hey, you’re awake.
> 
> Toptwink24: looks that way
> 
> Adman9x6: You getting back to the studio today?
> 
> Toptwink24: nope, a little online shopping.
> 
> Adman9x6: Why don’t you go out? Do a little real shopping?
> 
> Toptwink24: not that kind of shopping, just need something.
> 
> Adman9x6: Anything interesting?
> 
> Toptwink24: for the bedroom
> 
> Adman9x6: Now I’m intrigued. Link me.
> 
> Toptwink24: nah, I think I’ll let it be a surprise.
> 
> Adman9x6: That’s up to you. Remember, paybacks a bitch.
> 
> Toptwink24: fuck off :P
> 
> Adman9x6: I’ll be home by seven, you want Thai, or were you planning on cooking?
> 
> Toptwink24: Thai’s fine, but you know I’m not hungry
> 
> Adman9x6: I’m going back to work before I have to start nagging you online.
> 
> Toptwink24: I thought you didn’t nag.
> 
> Adman9x6: I don’t, as long as I sign off early enough. Later.
> 
> Toptwink24: later.
> 
> Adman9x6 has logged off

Justin went back to his online search. He found exactly what he was looking for and placed the order paying for next day delivery. It was only four thirty. If he went back to sleep now he could be up in time for dinner.

He wasn’t.

He awoke to Brian's hands moving under his sweatshirt. He rolled on his back to allow him better access but otherwise made no effort to participate in the proceedings. He kept his eyes closed and felt Brian lean in to kiss him but opened them abruptly when after a few seconds he could still feel Brian's breath, but no contact had been made.

“What?”

“When was the last time you showered?”

Justin shrugged again. “I don’t know, a couple days ago.”

Brian shook his head and lay on his back next to Justin still in his office attire. He loosened his tie a little. His jacket was laying across the end of the bed. He was barefoot. He poked his naked toe at Justin's feet, which were covered in thick socks. 

“cold?”

“I was earlier.”

“Sick?”

“Why do you keep asking me that?”

“’Cause you haven’t gotten out of bed in four days.”

“Yes I have.”

“Grabbing a bottle of water or a pear doesn’t count. I mean actually getting up.”

“I’m just taking a vacation.”

“From what?”

“Nothing in particular. The mural was really draining, I’ve never done anything on that scale before.”

“It’s good.”

Justin smiled a little. “Yeah, I think so.”

“Hey.”

“What?”

“You’re crying.”

“Am not.”

Brian brushed a thumb under Justin's eye, wiping the tear and proving his point.

“Yeah, I um…” Justin shook his head. “I have no fucking clue what that’s about. I think I might really be turning into a stupid faggot, or worse, a lesbian.”

“Or you shouldn’t have stopped your meds.”

“It’s not that.”

“You’re sure?”

Justin nodded. “Positive. I feel much better without them. More clear. More myself.”

“Funny, I don’t remember you sleeping in sweatpants or socks, even in the loft, and that place was cold.”

“I guess I’m getting old.”

Brian nodded. “That must be it. So, do I get to know what you bought?”

“What I bought?”

“For the bedroom?”

“Oh, it’s nothing, just… you’ll see it tomorrow.”

“Okay. Take a shower and come down for dinner.”

Justin closed his eyes and nodded. He was not hungry in the least but he was even less interested in the argument his refusal to eat would start than the Pad Thai noodles and coconut shrimp. He heaved himself out of bed, seemingly with great effort and made his way to the bathroom.

Justin was about to get in the shower when he realized that the tub seemed so much more inviting. He filled it with hot water and let his body sink slowly. Leaning his head back he closed his eyes again and allowed himself the pleasure of a long soak. Brian was less gentle this time when he woke him up.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Nothing, I’m just fucking tired. I told you that.”

“I’ve seen you work for 72 hours straight and not sleep this much.”

“I guess I’m making up for it now.”

Justin cursed himself. He was crying again.

Brian turned and walked out. “Dinner. Now.”

Justin tried to move quickly but felt as if he was carrying weights on his arms and legs. He walked downstairs instead of bounding down at a breakneck speed the way he usually did and sat next to Brian in the den. He forced himself to eat. When he was sure he’d eaten enough to satisfy Brian’s disapproving glare he stopped. 

He lay on his back, his head on Brian’s lap. “I know I’ve been boring lately.”

“You’re hardly boring. You’re just… lethargic.”

“Yeah, well, sorry.”

“You’re not allowed to use that word.”

“I can use any word I want. It’s my house. I’ve decided you can’t make vocabulary rules for me in my house.”

Brian smiled. “Okay, but I reserve the right to reinstate the rules if you start abusing the privilege.” 

Justin smiled a little… “Fine.”

Brian opened his mouth and then shut it. He’d get used to letting him say that word, eventually.

Justin's eyes were closed again, and Brian’s fingers were running through his soft blonde hair. Moments later he sat up quickly and went upstairs. Hoping Brian understood that until he got this stupid crying thing under control he couldn’t just sit there and weep in front of him.

He curled up in the bed pulling the covers over him and let his body convulse with great wracking sobs. He couldn’t name what was making him cry if he wanted to. And as he thought about that he cried harder. And finally he just fell asleep, worn out, his throat raw, his eyes red rimmed and swollen, and his nose sore and red. His chest hurting. His entire body feeling battered from the inside.

~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~

Brian had been watching Justin closely for days. When he’d first finished the mural he’d declared himself on a short vacation. Brian had enthusiastically backed his play. He’d worked himself hard to finish on schedule and had done a spectacular job. And for the first couple of days he completely understood Justin’s need to stay in sweatpants and barefoot. To simply wander around the house. To sketch randomly, not stick to a schedule of any sort, and just enjoy his freedom. That was over a week ago. 

Now Justin barely got out of bed. He cried. He tried to hide it. And sometimes he truly was unaware that he was doing it. It was as if his eyes were simply leaking. He barely ate. He had no interest in sex. Well, almost no interest. And he never initiated. And Brian was worried. It had been over a month since he’d completely stopped his meds. All of the reading he’d done said that this was a dangerous time in the cycle, but Justin refused to talk about it.

When Justin ran back upstairs tonight he had followed him. he had heard him, crying as if in grief. Mourning. He’d stepped forward half a dozen times, only to step back again, not sure what to do. Touching him had made him cry in the first place. Holding him might make it worse. Brian's heart was breaking. Justin's heart seemed broken but he didn’t know why. He didn’t know how to fix it. When Justin finally fell asleep he crawled into bed beside him and pulled him close. He hoped fervently that his touch wouldn’t bring on nightmares but he needed to feel him. he needed to keep him safe. And he needed to fucking fix this. He wanted his Sunshine back.

~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~

Justin didn’t hear Brian leave the next day, but he was awake in time for his delivery.

They set it up in the bedroom, and he blessed the contractor for installing the cable connection. Neither Brian nor Justin had seen the need for one in the bedroom but the contractor had insisted that for resale value and the possibility of re purposing the room later etc. it was wise to install it now rather than tear through the walls later. 

The TV wasn’t large. Justin had considered just buying a simple one for a couple hundred bucks but there really wasn’t anyplace to put it. So that had led to an entire furniture thought track that he’d found exhausting. The flat screen idea was far easier. So he’d bought a simple twenty seven-inch flat screen with a flat panel DVD player that hung directly underneath it. Very low profile. Brian probably wouldn’t even notice.

It hung on the wall on Justin's side of the bed. The only art he’d had to take down was the picture of Brian he’d drawn so long ago. The one Lindsay had convinced him to show at the GLC show. The first piece of art he’d ever sold. They’d find someplace else to hang it. When everything was unpacked and the boxes were removed Justin crawled back into bed with the remote in hand. He relaxed into the mattress and allowed the nameless faceless stupid people who had taken their problems to the people’s court wash over him. He felt almost okay.

Justin didn’t get out of bed at all. He mindlessly changed channels on the TV. Not really watching anything, but happy to have the sound, and the color, and the distraction. He didn’t hear Brian come home over the screaming of some woman about what her neighbor had done to her fence or something.

He didn’t notice Brian come in the room until he’d ripped the remote from his hands and thrown it against the opposite wall.

“Brian!”

“What the fuck is that?”

“It’s a TV”

“Glad you got the small one.” He snarked.

“I did. They don’t really make tiny flat screens.”

“What the fuck is it doing in here?”

“I wanted to be able to watch in bed.”

“Why?”

“Why?”

“Why.”

“Um… so I could lay in bed and watch TV.”

“Yeah, because that’s just the kind of thing you like to do on a regular basis.”

Justin shrugged and flinched back a little from Brian’s anger. “Why are you so mad?’

“Because I figured this was a fucking phase. I didn’t think you were gonna install some sort of altar to your new depressive state.”

“I’m not depressed.”

“Okay.”

“I’m not.”

“I believe you. however I then have to be very worried about your new leukemia.”

“Brian don’t even joke about that.”

“Well, sleeping eighteen hours a day. No appetite, weight loss. The symptoms lead to one of two conclusions.”

“There are other conclusions.”

“Yeah actually there are. And all of them involve you going to a doctor.”

“No fucking way.”

Justin threw the covers off of himself and stormed across the room. he picked up the remote and lay back down on the bed. “Move, you’re in my way.”

Brian didn’t move. “Call Dr. Blackstone.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re fucking crazy again.”

“Being tired doesn’t make me crazy.”

“How ‘bout the crying? Does that qualify.”

“I don’t know what that is.”

“minor case of insanity?”

“f\Fuck off.”

“Justin, you are not laying here and turning into…”

“What?”

“I have no idea. I’ve seen you be an obsessive artist, a dangerously angry vigilante, a very scared trauma victim… this just looks like a suburban housewife who’s addicted to Doctor Phil.”

“I hate that guy.”

“How do you even know that? You’ve been watching that crap?”

“Well, it’s on in the middle of the day.”

“So fucking what?”

“So I like the background noise.”

“Why?”

“Brian, drop it.” Justin tried to lean around him to turn the TV on but he stepped forward and took the remote from his hands. 

“Bedrooms are for fucking. So unless you’re planning on using that strictly for porn, call them and send it back.”

“I’m not sending it back.”

“It’s not staying here.”

“Fine, we’ll put it in one of the guest rooms.”

“Right, so you can disappear in there all fucking day. Because I’m that stupid.”

“Why can’t I just lay in bed. What’s wrong with just staying here? I thought you liked me in bed.”

Brian put the remote on the dresser and sat down next to Justin. “I love you in bed. Not like this though. Justin, something’s wrong.” He moved his hand to wipe away the tears he knew Justin couldn’t control. 

“If I thought this was just a little vacation from your regular routine I’d let it go. It isn’t though. You’re making long term plans to stay here, in this room, in this bed, in this particularly unattractive pair of sweat pants. I can’t let you do that.”

“I’m just really tired Brian.”

“Where’s the sketch?”

“Sketch?”

“The one that was on the wall, before that THING moved in.”

“It’s over there.” 

Brian saw it leaning against the side of the dresser. He let go of Justin's hand to retrieve it. “You’d rather have a TV on the wall than this?”

Justin held the sketch. He remembered drawing it. His utter fascination with Brian. The awe he had felt…still felt, when in the presence of his relaxed and naked form. The peace he saw in Brian's features when he was asleep and allowed himself to let his defenses down. He ran his fingers over the glass. He remembered his heart jumping when Brian had walked so confidently into the GLC. The way his entire body had reacted. The way his mother, Daphne, everything had melted away and there was nothing then but Brian. 

He looked up then at Brian's face and felt it again. The need. Strong and insistent and he moved forward, kissing Brian, initiating contact for the first time in a long time. 

He felt Brian respond and was grateful. He knew it was a ridiculous fear. But Brian's response to him was something he counted on, something he needed. It was something he’d missed. His sweatshirt was on the floor now, and his hands were pulling at Brian's tie, working the buttons on his shirt, desperate to get to skin.

Soon they were both naked, Brian holding Justin's hands above his head as his mouth moved slowly. Brian kissed his eyelids, and then nibbled one of his earlobes. Leaving hot breath and tantalizing promises as he moved lower. Justin felt the tears well and willed them back, concentrating on Brian's mouth. When his arms were free he moved gently, rolling over. He wanted this. He needed this. He was afraid if Brian saw him crying he would misunderstand and stop this.

Brian's mouth never stopped. It grazed his hipbone and then bit at the flesh of his round ass cheek. Justin moaned into the pillow as he pulled his knees forward, raising his ass. 

Brian apparently needed no further invitation. His tongue was inside Justin in seconds. No teasing licks, no gentle swipes, his tongue was mercilessly fucking him and Justin could only moan in response, his head buried, his pillow absorbing the unwelcome tears.

The sensations were overwhelming and when Brian's mouth was replaced by slick fingers Justin's pushed back even harder. Brian's words were washing over him as he described everything he was going to do to him.

“You’re such a hot tight boy, my hot tight boy. You want me to fuck you, but not yet. Gonna make you beg Justin. Gonna make you need It. Gonna make you come before I even fuck you. Gonna make you come so hard. Then I’ll fuck you. Fuck you until you can’t breathe, until you can’t think, until you can’t cry. Fuck you 'til you come again.”

And Justin _was_ begging now, meeting Brian’s words with his own, begging for him to fuck him. begging to come. Promising anything.

“Anything Justin?”

“Anything Brian, anything.”

“You really need it huh, do anything to come?”

“Anything Brian god please.”

Three of Brian's fingers were twisting and pumping into Justin now. Justin was pushing back on them. and Brian's other hand was lightly stroking Justin's leaking cock. “Brian please, anything.”

Brian swiped his thumb across the slit, pressing down a bit and Justin moaned deeply. Justin was close, and he felt himself let go, felt himself about to come and as Brian’s fist slid up and down on his shaft he heard Brian’s final command “Call. Dr. Blackstone.”

Justin came then, moaning, “Yes, god yes.”

And then Brian was inside him. His sheathed cock pushing slowly, his body pressed against Justin's, his mouth at Justin’s ear. “Good boy. You’re gonna be fine.”

And Justin knew he would be. And then Brian pulled out almost completely and pushed back in and Justin stopped thinking.


	10. What the Mother F*ck?

* * *

****

Slice Of Seven  
X  
What the Mother F*ck?

* * *

Brian heard Justin mumbling into the phone and then close it. When he flopped down onto the sofa he was obviously upset.

“What now?”

“My mother’s seeing someone.”

“So?”

“So, last time it was that Tucker guy. God only knows what kind of asshole she’s found this time.”

Brian tried not to laugh. “I’ll never understand your hypocritical stance on the women in your family and their dating habits.”

“It’s not hypocritical, it’s… protective.”

“Protective?”

“You of all people should understand that.”

“Why would I understand?”

“Please.” Justin rolled his eyes. “You’re the most manipulative and protective person I know.”

“I look out for the people I care about, but that’s different. You just don’t like the idea of your mother, or your sister dating anyone.”

“That’s not true.”

“Hunter.”

Justin’s face turned bright red. “That’s completely different. He fucked my sister. In OUR BED!!!”

“And you’re still not over it.”

“I’m over that. But they should have broken up by now.”

Brian turned his head to look at Justin, waiting for him to continue.

“It’s a high school romance for Molly, it should be over.”

“Yeah, your high school romance ended so quickly.”

“Shut up. This is different. Hunter is an asshole.”

Brian nodded. “The guy you were seeing when you were in high school was a real sweetheart.”

“He wasn’t a slimy skate rat.”

“I thought you were upset about your mother.” Brian steered the topic. No matter how many times they talked or didn’t talk about it, Justin never seemed to be able to let the whole Hunter and Molly thing go. He’d learned to just move on.

“Right my mother. She wants us to meet him.”

“Why?”

“That’s what I asked her. Apparently, they’ve been dating a few months and she thinks it’s time to have him meet her son. So she invited us to dinner.”

“I can’t make it.”

“You don’t know when it is.”

“When is it?”

“Thursday.”

“I can’t make it.”

“Liar.”

“She wants him to meet her son. Did she say anything about him meeting her son’s…Brian?”

“She made it very clear that the invitation was for two.”

“So take Daph.”

“Brian, you’re going.”

“I’ll go, but only because it’s fun to watch your face go three shades of red when you get like this.”

“You’re going because if you don’t go I’m not going back to the doctor to talk about med changes.”

“The fuck you’re not.”

“I’m doing better now.”

“Now meaning today. You showered and got dressed by noon. Hardly an accomplishment worth celebrating.”

“I’m also making dinner.”

“Feeling energetic?”

“I talked to Dr. Blackstone. He said I probably don’t need to go back on meds but I couldn’t let myself fall into ‘unhealthy patterns’. I’m trying to be normal again.”

“Again? When were you normal? Damn, did I miss an important stage in your development?”

“Fuck you. You know what I mean. More… me like. So it’s a whole thing, with getting up and doing stuff, and seeing him, and…”

“Not crying all the damn time?”

“That too… although I’m still working on that.”

“God bless Tivo. If we couldn’t speed through the commercials you’d never stop crying.”

“Hey, some of them are really touching.”

“No, they aren’t. They’re manipulative. I should know, I wrote them.”

“Yeah but the ones you wrote don’t make me cry.”

“Really, so I’m not as manipulative as some of the other hacks out there?”

“No, you’re more manipulative, but I’m immune.”

Brian huffed out a laugh. “Hardly.”

“You can’t control me Brian.”

“Really, but you’re seeing Dr. Blackstone on a regular basis again?”

“Yes, but that was my choice.”

“Mmmmmm hmmmm.”

“It was.”

“Okay.”

Justin was blushing. It was his choice, but not originally. Originally it had simply been a promise made in the heat of the moment. A very hot moment, when he would have promised anything. He’d be more careful next time.

“So what do you know about this new beau of your mom’s?”

“Well, he’s older than Tucker.”

“That’s good, if he were younger your head would explode.”

“Stop it. Tucker was inappropriate, and gross.”

“Actually he was kind of hot, and you’re one to talk about dating inappropriately aged men.”

“You were never inappropriately aged, you were just… um…”

“Way too old for you?”

“Yeah, but I grew into you. Plus you were really immature.”

“And you were wise beyond your years.” Brian was laughing now, but then again, he was half way to stoned.

Justin took the joint from him and inhaled. He sat quietly while he waited for his lungs to demand that he exhale. Once he did he replied. “We were both stupid kids.”

“And what are we now?”

“Stupid adults?”

“Works for me. But you were far stupider than I.”

“That’s not a word.”

“It should be. And it’s still true.”

“Brian you were pretty fucking clueless.”

“I did alright.”

“We both did, eventually.”

“Yeah, anyway, this guy your mom’s seeing.”

“He’s in his late thirties, which is still too young but not icky young. Mom met him at a real estate thing. He’s a flipper.”

“A flipper?”

“He buys houses, fixes them up and sells them.”

“Sounds like a match made in heaven.”

“Sounds like he should keep his fucking hands off my mother.”

“Justin, you can’t get worked up over every guy your mother dates. She’s hot, for her age, and you can’t expect her to be alone forever.”

“Why not?”

“Is that really what you want for her?”

“No, but I don’t want her to be…”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Fucking.”

“Brian.”

“You don’t want someone to fuck your mother.”

“Brian!”

“Justin, someone’s gonna fuck your mother. You do realize she only introduces you to the ones who are gonna stick around. She must have had sex more than twice in the six years since she left your dad.”

“Brian!”

“What, I’m just being honest.”

“Enough honesty.”

“I thought Dr. Blackstone said you had to be honest and realistic, or some shit like that.”

“Not about my mother and sex.”

“Why not? She’s not a leper; she’s probably learned a thing or two over the years. Hell, if I were straight… “

“Finish that sentence, even in your own head, and you’re never getting to fuck anything with the last name Taylor in this lifetime.”

“Are you really that upset that your mother’s Pilates classes might be giving some added possibilities to her love life?”

Justin’s face went from red to almost purple. Brian laughed and was considering adding a few more choice visuals for Justin to process when he found himself straddled and pushed against the sofa. “Shut the fuck up before I have to kill you.”

Justin was laughing though. He was obviously trying not to, and failing.

Brian was happy. Justin may be upset at the image of his mother’s ankles behind her ears, but angry and disgusted beat numb and sad any day. He leaned in and kissed him.

~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**

“I really can’t make it.”

“You’re coming with me, or I’m not going.”

“Brian, you go. See if he’s okay. If he’s not, I’ll help you kill him. If he is, I’ll take your word for it and then never actually have to meet him.

Brian threw Justin's shirt to him from across the bed. “Get dressed, we’ve got to be at your mom’s in less than an hour.”

Justin grumbled but got dressed. 

Justin drove. He swore it was because he needed to have something to focus on. Brian actually understood that he needed to be in control of some portion of tonight’s events even if it was the transportation. He didn’t make it an issue. He didn’t even bitch about taking the ugly orange monstrosity of a car rather than his. He did blow Justin on the way there.

“Are you trying to kill us?”

“I owed you one from Valentine’s Day.”

Justin smiled and leaned over to kiss Brian. “Well, now we’re even.”

“Hmmm, maybe I’ll do it again on the way home. It’s a nice favor to have in my back pocket.”

“Pfft, like you ever need to do more than ask to get me to blow you.”

“Even asking didn’t work when I had my face done.”

“You didn’t have it ‘done’, you had it paralyzed.”

“Semantics.”

“Are you gonna do it again?”

“Blow you? Probably at some point in our life.”

“No the botox.”

“No.”

“Then the deterrent worked.”

“Just what I always wanted to be, well trained.”

Justin rolled his eyes. “You’re hardly well trained, but some things are just intolerable.”

“I thought I looked pretty good.”

“You looked like a plastic man. You couldn’t raise your eyebrow, or frown. I missed that.”

“You missed me frowning?”

“Yes.”

“You’re happy when I’m unhappy?”

Justin sighed. “Do I really have to explain this?”

Brian shrugged. “We’ve got twenty minutes 'til we get there. Give it a shot.”

“When you frown at me, when you’re upset because something I did was… I don’t know, dangerous, or stupid, or self-destructive… it means something. You don’t talk much. So your facial expressions are pretty fucking important. Take those away and I’m left with a guy who fucks well and doesn’t talk much. Kind of makes me shallow.”

“So do you do stuff just to make me frown?”

“What?”

“You like it when I disapprove. You like that I’m… what did you call me, protective. Do you do stuff just to see what I’ll do, or how protective I’ll get?”

“No. I’m not insane. It’s just nice to know that you care. That’s all. Christ, you’re reading way to much into this.”

“Maybe I’m getting introspective in my old age.”

“Maybe the three shots of beam made you more thoughtful. It does that sometimes.”

“Whatever. We’re here. Plaster that fake ‘I’m greeting patrons at a gallery’ smile and let’s get this over with.”

Jennifer opened the door and was greeted by Justin’s false smile and Brian’s very real smirk. Molly was on the sofa with Hunter. Tonight was going to be fun. He put his hand on the small of Justin's back and pushed lightly until Justin stepped forward, pecking his mother on the cheek and extending his hand to the man Jennifer was introducing.

Brian’s smirk turned into something less amused when he saw whom Jennifer was dating. 

“Jonathan.”

“Brian.”

Jennifer looked confused. “You two know each other?”

Brian nodded. “We were related once.”

Justin and Jennifer were both giving him odd looks. “He used to be married to my sister.”

Justin couldn’t take it anymore. He started to laugh. He didn’t stop. He didn’t seem able to stop. His face was red. Tears were streaming, and he sounded like he was choking. Brian would have been amused if he weren’t so pissed off. 

Ten minutes later Justin seemed to have caught his breath. His mother handed him a glass of water with a shaking hand and he took it. Wiping a tear from his eye, he let out a long sigh. 

“You’re fucking brother in law.”

“Literally, Satan, if you count your nephews as the spawn of Satan, which I do. Jesus mom, you sure can pick ‘em.”

“Justin, honey, you don’t know anything about him, and he and Claire have been divorced for over ten years.”

Justin started to laugh again and Brian went outside to have a cigarette. Justin joined him a few minutes later.

He took the cigarette from Brian, took a long relaxing drag and exhaled slowly. “Well, that was an ice breaker.”

“Yeah, we have to bury him behind the lake.”

“Okay.”

“Seriously, she can’t date my brother in law.”

“Brian, our family is already bizarrely small and incestuous. What’s one more family tree branch that twists around?”

“She has to break up with him.”

“Brian.”

“He was an asshole to Claire.”

“I thought you didn’t care who your sister dated.”

“I didn’t. Still don’t.”

“So…”

“I care who your mom dates. He’s an asshole.”

“We have to stay for dinner.”

“The fuck we do.”

“Brian. C’mon.”

“What, I didn’t like him when she married him. I liked him less when he left her. Now I’m supposed to have dinner with him because he’s fucking your mom.”

Justin shuddered. “I’ll be right back.”

When he came out he had his keys. “Let’s go.”

They got in the car and the first leg of the drive was made in silence. Brian chain-smoked and Justin chewed his fingernails while they each tried to figure out what the fuck had just happened.

They were still at least fifteen minutes from the house when Justin started. “Want to tell me why you’re so upset?”

“Your mother shouldn’t date him.”

“You said that already.”

“He’s an asshole.”

“You said that already too.”

Brian said nothing else.

Brian's head was spinning. He’d never cared. Never cared who anyone dated. Not Claire, not his friends, not even Lindsay. He never liked Mel but he didn’t get involved in making sure they were apart until she was a physical threat. 

Jennifer was a strong fucking woman. She’d stood by Justin in a way he admired. She’d accepted him. She’d been fucking amazing, so many times, and now she’s dating that asshole.

When they got home Justin started making something for dinner while Brian drank. He was sitting at the kitchen table watching Justin culinary efforts and pouring himself copious amounts of ice cold Gray Goose. 

Justin put a plate of stir-fried vegetables and rice in front of him and he ate, still not talking. 

“You have to tell me why this upsets you so much.”

“No I don’t.”

Justin sighed. “Brian, he and Claire didn’t get along, that doesn’t make him a bad person.”

“No, that’s not what makes him a bad person.”

“So what does?”

“He’s a fucking loser.”

“Okay.”

“Never pays child support, barely sees his kids, was a fucking shit to Claire.”

“So you think he’d gonna bail on my mother?”

“Worse, he might not.”

“Brian, what’s really going on here?”

“John’s an asshole.”

“That I got. There’s something you’re not telling me.”

Brian shook his head. “There’s no big secret. He was like my old man. Fucked around on her, drank more than he should have.”

Justin started to worry a little. “Did he hit her?”

“I don’t think so. He’s just… he just… fuck Justin, she married him ‘cause he’s like my dad.”

“Why the fuck would anyone marry someone like your dad?”

Brian shrugged. “Why would anyone marry someone like my mom? Well, john did.”

“And now he’s dating my mom.”

“This is too…” Brian stood up and walked away. Justin followed.

“Too what?”

“Too pathetic. Your mother’s a big girl. She can take care of herself.”

“If he’s gonna hurt her you have to tell me.”

“Of course he’s gonna hurt her. She likes him.”

“Brian not all relationships are doomed to failure.”

“But they all cause pain.”

Justin had no argument against that. He moved closer and hugged Brian. “Is this one?”

“This one?”

“Ours. Is ours causing you pain?”

“Justin cut it out.”

“Brian.”

“No. Mother Taylor on the other hand, is dating my brother in law.”

“Ex brother in law.”

“So what, now we bury him behind the lake?”

“No, now we just…”

“Can we do that thing?”

Brian shook his head. “I already told you, no evil master plans just to stop the women in your family from dating.”

“What about to stop the women in my family from dating assholes.”

“Not even then.”

Brian sat in the chair by the window in the great room. Justin sat on the arm of the chair. “So we just let it go?”

Brian nodded. 

Justin ran his fingers through Brian’s hair. “Brian, my mom’s smart. Smarter than Claire.”

“Now you’re defending who your mom is dating?”

“No, I’m defending my mom’s ability to detect bullshit.”

“Really.”

“Brian, I don’t like the idea of her dating that guy, but I don’t think she’d let him hurt her.”

“He’d better not.”

Justin leaned down and kissed him. “See, protective.”

Brian smiled. “Yeah, I guess so.”


	11. D Day

  
Author's notes: tiny little slice, but haven't you ever wondered...  


* * *

* * *

****

Slices of Seven  
XI  
D Day

* * *

Justin was always vaguely amused by Brian’s reaction to what should be a very ordinary event. Brian always tried to blow it off, pretend he was bored, but he wasn’t. He was always in a good mood on delivery day.

It was understandable that Brian loved shopping for clothes, cars, sex toys, even furniture. It was equally understandable that he hated shopping for necessities, alcohol, condoms, cigarettes, lube, these were all things to have on hand, but not to actually go and spend a boring moment thinking about while purchasing. And so, years ago, before Justin had even met him Brian had found a happy solution, he bought in bulk and had the items delivered every few of months. 

One of the things Brian had missed most after the Stockwell incident was these basic items, always handy and in quantity. Never having to worry about the cost or the supply. 

Some of the moments Justin secretly smiled about were on delivery day. When two cases of Jim Beam and five cases of beer turned into two cases of Beam, a case of rum and nine cases of beer. Justin had said nothing, had never asked, but it was a small gesture that Brian had made. 

In Brian’s mind it was one of convenience, the beer intake in the loft had gone up, the rum intake had lowered the hung-over twink to morning ratio. It was a logical decision, and he could argue it that way if anyone had ever called him on it. Justin was too smart to say anything about it when it happened.

The cigarette issue didn’t go unmentioned, and Brian did get to use his brilliant argument. Justin had almost lost it when the regular nine cartons of Marlboro reds were joined by six cartons of Marlboro lights. Justin also noticed that Brian didn’t buy for him in the quantity he bought for himself, but that was that stupid hypocritical protective thing that made Brian somehow rationalize it as simply curbing Justin’s intake by limiting supply.

It made no sense. Little about Brian’s purchasing habits did so Justin let it go. “But seriously” Justin thought to himself “he’s a grown man in a good mood because we just got a new supply of condoms, lube, alcohol and cigarettes.” Of course the condom issue could become an actual issue if Justin wasn’t careful… Brian ordered 1000 at a time, and Justin always figured, 30 days in a month, ten fucks a day, three months between deliveries and then round up. One day he’d asked Brian, turns out… he was right, that’s exactly how Brian had decided on 1000. Justin knew however, god forbid, the supply seem too plentiful come delivery day. Yes there were always hundereds left, no one really fucks ten times a day, and every year or so Brian donated a bunch of them to some foundation or another that could distribute them to needy fags. A lot of them however, did get used. And if less than usual were gone… Brian got a look on his face, a grim determined look. Then neither of them got out of the bedroom much for the next couple of days. Which Justin had to admit was better than the first time he’d seen that look and he just hadn’t seen much of Brian for the next couple of days. But Justin was smart enough to empty the cabinet under the bathroom sink enough to keep that look away. 

Although he’d let it stay a little higher than usual this time… fucking botox. Fucking asshole Brian, he could realize that they’d had a lot less sex and think about that before he shot poison into his face again. 

Justin was putting a few fresh bottles of Jim Beam in the den, and pushed two six packs of beer into the fridge next to the water, which was also delivered but honestly of no real interest to either one of them when he frowned.

“Brian.”

“What?”

“What the fuck?”

“Specifically, what?”

“Toothbrushes?”

Justin was confused, and hurt. He’d never mentioned it but when a couple dozen toothbrushes stopped being delivered with the rest of goods he had simply smiled to himself. They’d agreed, when they first moved into this house. Brian had been the one who said no tricking in the house. What the fuck?

“We needed new ones.”

“So we could have _bought_ new ones.”

“Now we won’t run out”

“For a really long time.”

“Well, I’m sure Lindsay could use one, and um, Gus and…”

“Brian.”

“What?”

“Are you really that lazy, you’d rather have…” Justin looked at the box, “36 toothbrushes delivered than go buy one for yourself.”

Brian smiled “maybe.”

Justin shook his head. As long as it wasn’t a regular thing. So now they never needed to buy another toothbrush, apparently ever. “Fine, but you’re using the fucking pink ones.”

Brian nodded, he’d agree to almost anything on delivery day, and Justin still didn’t understand why bulk amounts of the basics made him so fucking giddy.

~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~

Brian knew Justin didn’t understand. He’d never really had to worry about shit like this, about going into a store and counting pennies for what he wanted. Sure maybe he’d played at it for a couple months here and there but there had always been a backup. Hell, he’d always been a backup for Justin, and he wanted to be. He never wanted Justin to worry like that.

Brian remembered what it was like. He remembered the times his father was on strike, or had just blown grocery and shoe money on beer and cigarettes. He remembered how quiet his mother would become. For weeks she’d walk around as if the wrong move, the wrong sound would bring the house falling down around them. It wasn’t a fear of jack. It was a fear of the payments that weren’t getting made. The food that wasn’t on the table, the things they were going without. 

Brian got used to it as he grew up, but he never forgot how much he hated it. Once he finally had the money he’d realized that the best way to avoid the whole issue was to have the essentials delivered in bulk, once in a while. He found the companies he liked best, and kept the delivery day the same. He may not want to shop, but he didn’t want to sit around the house waiting for deliveries all day either.

It was an exhilarating freedom not to have to squint at price tags, or factor unit price costs in his head. When he did have to do those things he ended up angry, frustrated and once again fighting father issues he could swear he had buried with Jack. 

He laughed when Justin called him on the toothbrush issue. Yes, he was that lazy. He hated shopping for shit like that, and he liked this kind, and the rest of the stuff like that, toothpaste and whatever; Justin bought when he went grocery shopping anyway. Justin actually seemed to LIKE grocery shopping… but then, Justin didn’t have to worry about what it cost, and he never would.

He smiled as he pulled a beer out of the ‘fridge. Delivery day was a good day.


	12. Meds Schmeds

* * *

****

Slices Of Seven  
XII  
Meds Schmeds

* * *

Justin was sitting on the bed fiddling with the sock in his hand. Brian watched him for a couple of minutes. He watched him bite his lower lip and twist the sock in a couple of different directions. And then he watched him grab the TV remote and toss the sock across the room. He watched him turn on the TV and lay back down on the bed, fully clothed.

“Uh uh. You’ve got an appointment.”

“I’ll get there.”

“It’s in half an hour.”

“I’m going.” 

Justin hadn’t moved his eyes from the television or his head from the pillow.

“I know you’re going.” Brian stood in front of the TV. “And so is this thing.”

“We’ve had this argument.”

“And I won.”

“You tricked me.”

Brian shrugged. “Whatever it takes. Now get up.”

Justin reluctantly got up and took the sock Brian had retrieved. “I don’t see why I have to go I’ve been fine lately.”

“I know. You’re completely recovered. Go make sure the doctor thinks so too.”

“This is a waste of time.”

“I’m sure it is, but it was one of the conditions of the tickets to Europe anyway.”

“But he’s not a real doctor, he’s a psychiatrist.”

“Well, he’s a start, since you’re far more crazy than sick lately.”

“I’m not crazy.”

“Okay.”

Justin stormed off towards the garage. “Fuck you Brian.”

“Okay.”

Justin was pulling into the doctor’s parking lot before he realized he’d been tricked again. He slammed his hands against the steering wheel and screamed out loud. And then he parked and signed in and waited.

The wait was interminable. The office was stuffy. The book Lindsay had recommended was sappy and terrible. The entire endeavor was pointless. Justin glanced at the clock and wondered if enough time had passed that he could head home and pretend he’d actually talked to the doctor. He considered it a moment longer and was about to get up and leave when he heard his name called. 

He sighed and met Dr. Shahlite in his office. 

“He was young looking, with round glasses and, Justin noticed, unmatched socks. One was black the other navy. He was also wearing a dreadful tie, and his slightly Indian accent was grating on Justin’s nerves for no apparent reason. 

“So what brings you back Mr. Taylor?”

“I stopped taking the medications you’d prescribed for me. I was feeling better, and the stress in my life had died down for the most part. I ended up tired, and…” Justin shrugged. “I couldn’t stop crying. So we, I mean, I figured I needed to come back and make sure I hadn’t chemically altered my brain permanently.”

The doctor smiled. “I’m sure it’s nothing so dire.” He flipped through Justin's chart for a few more minutes. “Tired and crying. Were you depressed?”

“Do people usually cry in bed for 18 hours a day when they’re happy?”

“Any thoughts of suicide?”

“Fuck no.”

“So how are you feeling now?”

“Less tired, less like crying.”

“But still tired, and still like crying a bit?”

“Maybe sometimes, but you know, some shit’s sad.”

The doctor nodded. “Do you feel comfortable going back on an anti-depressant?”

“No.”

“You probably shouldn’t have stopped without tapering off.”

“What’s the difference, I was gonna stop eventually anyway.”

“Yes, but at the time the medication was prescribed it was for OCD, which means you were taking doses five or seven times the amount given for depression. Without balancing that carefully the withdrawal can result in a depressive episode.”

“You could have told me that before you put me on them.”

“Before you began taking them you were at serious physical risk Mr. Taylor. And I did tell you to check with me before discontinuing them.”

“Does anyone check with you before discontinuing their medication?”

The doctor smiled. “No, and then they’re often back here wondering why they’ve gone crazy.”

“Well I didn’t go crazy.”

“So what would you like me to fix Mr. Taylor?”

Justin was crying now, that annoying weeping for no reason thing. “This.” He said. “Fix this and I’ll fucking pray to you.”

“This can be fixed.” The doctor wrote out three scrips. “The first is a lower dosage of the antidepressant. The receptionist will give you a months worth of samples. The second is the anti-anxiety medication you were on. Those are dangerous to stop in the manner you used and you should still be taking them, at least for a few months. After that if you’d like to taper back off of them you may, but you must call me first. The third is a mood stabilizer, it’s to prevent the mood swings that you experienced the last time you started these medications.”

“That’s your answer. Do what you were doing…plus.”

Justin took the scrips and walked out wordlessly. He threw the white sheets away before he even got out of the building and spent the ride back home trying to figure out what he was going to tell Brian.

Brian was home when he got there. 

“Shouldn’t you be at work?”

“Slow day and a meeting on Saturday, told Cyn to schedule the afternoon off.”

Justin shrugged. “Whatever.”

“What did the doc say?”

“Is that why you stayed home? So you could hear what the doctor told me? I could have called you.”

Justin was in the bedroom now, changing into studio clothes.

“Yeah but you were gonna come home and barricade yourself in the studio, loud music, no food, no phone… seemed easier to catch you before you did that.”

Justin pulled the paint-smeared shirt over his head and buttoned the fly on his jeans as he headed down the stairs. “You know me so well.”

“Mmmmmm hmmmm, so what did the doctor say?”

“He said that I was taking a shit load of antidepressants for being OCD and going off of them makes you a bit faggot. Since I got past it he recommended not taking that much shit again and if I do, weaning myself off them.”

Brian’s eyes narrowed a bit. “Why didn’t he tell you to wean yourself off them when you first stopped taking them.”

Justin was a few steps from the studio. He reached his hand for the knob but Brian slid between him and the door. “Why didn’t he tell you to wean yourself off of them when you first stopped taking them?”

“Yeah, I um, probably should have called him first.”

“You didn’t fucking talk to your doctor before you stopped your meds?”

“I talked to Dr. Blackstone.”

“But he said to talk to Dr. Shalililelite or whatever the fuck his name is right?”

“Yeah.”

“And you didn’t.”

“Doctors don’t WANT you to stop taking medicine.”

“Neither do Brian’s if it’s what you need.”

“I didn’t need them anymore.”

Brian pinched the bridge of his nose, his back still against the door blocking Justin’s entrance to the studio and exit from reality. “So what does he say you should do now really?”

“He says I should take MORE fucking drugs. Fuck. That.”

“Justin.”

“Brian, I’m fine now. I really don’t need them. I eat. I sleep. I barely cry. I’m feeling better, and I don’t want to be medicated anymore.”

“So I can have the TV removed.”

Justin tried to move Brian to the side so he could get to the door handle. “If you want. I don’t need it anymore.”

Brian nodded and moved aside. “I won’t keep you prisoner out here in the real world. But while you’re in there exorcising demons and making brilliant art, could you think about how much better you were feeling three months ago?”

Justin nodded curtly and closed the door behind him. Brian stood, faded jeans and black wife beater staring at the door wondering what the fuck to do now. Finally he turned away and crossed over the lawn to Lindsay's. He was halfway there before he remembered it was still early afternoon. No one was there.

He headed back to the house and tried not to brood for the next few hours. He failed. He fucking hated this. Goddamned motherfucking shit. He could go online and see what could have happened when Justin stopped all his meds like that but he had a feeling that wouldn’t make him more comfortable with the situation. He could call Dr. Blackstone but he knew he’d get that “it’s really something that you need to discuss with Justin” answer that always pissed him off.

If Justin were willing to fucking discuss the situation he wouldn’t NEED to call Dr. Blackstone to find out what was going on. Christ, how effective could therapy be if Justin was lying to his shrink?

Eventually he gave up and banged on the studio door. Justin opened it, looking aggravated. 

“What?”

“We’re not done.”

Justin tried to close the door again but Brian’s arm held it open. “Justin, what the fuck?”

“Brian, I’m fine, I was fine before. I got scared. Things got dangerous. I’m fine again, and nothings dangerous.”

Brian breathed deeply. “You sure?”

“Positive. All doctors want to give you a pill. It’s what they do. If it were up to the fucking neurologist I’d still be on those anti seizure pills that made me groggy and miserable but that’s because they hate what they can’t control… you should totally be a doctor, you’d love to give everyone a pill to make them better and then not have to worry about it again.”

Brian let the door close. Anything he said at this point would be less than helpful.

They spent the day like that, on either side of the door. Justin painting and developing intricate and stunningly rational arguments for why he no longer needed medication.

Brian self medicating in the den and working hard on not being worried. Justin was eating. He was sleeping. He was better. And this wasn’t like it was before, when he’d convinced himself that Justin was better, only to be proven wrong time and time again. Justin. Was. Better.

He accepted that and by the time the blonde emerged from the studio, freshly showered, and still in his robe, causally asking what Brian wanted to do about dinner, Brian was over it.

They eventually ended up going to the new sushi place that had opened near them. It wasn’t bad. When they came home Justin spent a few hours online with Daphne, looking at dress options and possible condo’s that she and Brad were considering putting a bid on.

Brian stopped by Lindsay’s for a few minutes, gave both Gus and JR a kiss good night, reminded her that the contractors were coming on Monday, and that he’d help her move what she needed into the house so that the kids didn’t have to live in a construction zone.

It was still somewhat early when they both made it upstairs to bed.

“I’m sorry.”

Justin looked at Brian curiously. “For what?”

“For not trusting you. If you say you’re okay, you’re okay.”

“Thank you.”

“I just…”

“Brian, no more. Just let it go. I AM okay. Anything you say at this point will just aggravate me.”

“I know.”

“So stop talking.”

Justin was naked now, and lying on top of Brian wriggling a little until his thighs were between Brian's and their bodies were meshing just right. “I’m fine, you’re fine, and we’re good so shut up.”

He leaned up and kissed him, and Brian returned the kiss.

“I was just going to say that…”

“The last time I did this you found a very interesting way to shut me up… is that paddle still around?”

Brian shut up then and wrapped his arms around Justin, rolling them over until he was holding himself above the boy. “Don’t even fucking think about it.”

“Well you won’t stop talking.”

“I’m known for my incessant babbling.”

Justin smiled, “I’m just saying, if that’s what one does to shut up one’s…Justin, then it should work on you too.”

Brian moved his body against Justin’s his cock, leaking at just the feel of Justin's warm thighs involuntarily wrapping around his back. He didn’t say another word, but it was hours until the room was filled with nothing but the sound of them both breathing evenly again, and the smell of sex permeating.


	13. Nothing! (why the boys will never be Seinfeld)

  
Author's notes: something MUST be wrong...right?  


* * *

* * *

****

Slices Of Seven  
XIII  
Nothing

* * *

“Goddammit!”

“Brian, language.” Lindsay admonished.

“You shouldn’t curse daddy.”

“And YOU shouldn’t leave leggos laying all over the floor.” Brian said, picking up Gus and bringing him to eye level. 

“I’m sorry. Me and Sam were playin’”

“Sam and I.”

Gus gave him a face and Brian just sighed and put him back down to play with whatever he’d abandoned the leggos for.

“It might be easier if you didn’t walk around barefoot.” Lindsay said quietly.

“It might be easier if those fu… dam… _things_ didn’t have so many sharp edges.”

Lindsay was picking up the few scattered toys and putting them into a plastic bin. “I know this is inconvenient, but Brian you’re the one who insisted on expanding the carriage house. And they said it was perfectly safe to stay there.”

“Right, and then they leave for the day and forget to unplug the nail gun and Gus shoots JR in the head.”

Lindsay didn’t reply. Brian was right. It was safer here for the kids during the major demolition and construction work. The kids were comfortable here. Brian had difficulty saying no unless he was being stabbed in the foot by a plastic toy, so for the most part, they’d been spoiled for the last three days. But there was something going on between Brian and Justin and they both seemed to be walking around avoiding each other.

It was rare for them. They usually sought each other out. If Justin was in the studio, Brian was in the den, working, watching television, and generally waiting for Justin to emerge. Lindsay had always found it rather sweet but now…

It was different. Justin was quiet, almost withdrawn. Not dangerously so the way he had been last year. This was something else. He still had a passion for his work, and a passion for keeping others out of the studio. He still pushed himself to hard, sleeping little it seemed, but the easy rhythm that Brian and Justin had so recently found was gone. Lindsay wondered if it was just because she and the kids were here. 

It could be the upcoming trip. They were leaving on the seventh of April and Brian wouldn’t return until the fourth of June. But all of that seemed to be arranged and handled. Justin’s passport was done. They both seemed to be looking forward to it. It was something else. 

Lindsay had tried to broach the subject with Brian a few times but he evaded the topic and quickly changed the subject.

~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**

Brian knew that Lindsay could sense something was wrong. Hell, a blind deaf mute who’d been raised by wolves in an abandoned monastery could figure out something was wrong. 

He’d tried, really tried to talk to Justin about it. Nothing worked. Justin was stupider than a blind deaf mute who’d been raised by wolves in a monastery. He insisted everything was fine.

Even so Brian decided to try again. He sat down next to Justin who was, per usual of late, sitting on the floor of the library and sketching.

“Hey there.”

“Oh, hi.”

“New idea?”

“I was thinking that if we put the window seat in where the bay window is the way I had originally planned, then we really need to pull the desk out further, and if we do that the shelves are going to look of center. So I either have to redesign the desk, which I don’t want to do, or ditch the window seat, which I also don’t want to do.”

Brian nodded glancing at the new sketch. “What are all those holes?”

“They’re not holes they’re display spots. Lit for art. That way we can hang the um… I don’t know, the unnamed unfinished set.”

“In here?”

“Yeah, I don’t want it anywhere else. It’s private.”

Brian put his hand against Justin's back. It was a gesture of support but it was more than that. Brian would never admit it to Justin, but it had become a habit. He could tell so much about Justin's mental state from this small gesture. He gauged how sharply he could feel the vertebrae in Justin's back as he bent over the sketchbook. He could feel Justin's rapid heartbeat if he was upset, and his shallow breaths when he was scared. And it was as comforting to Brian as Brian hoped it was to Justin, to feel the warmth of his skin, to feel him solid and there. But he wouldn’t know…Justin wasn’t talking much these days. Not about anything important anyway.

“I like this design, but is there room for the other pieces when you add to the set?”

Justin nodded and pointed to other spaces that were open for just such a purpose. 

“You’ve left room for a lot of them. You’re pretty sure of those.”

Justin shrugged. “You’ll do something sweet again someday.”

“Someday? I thought I was always sweet.”

“Yeah that too, but I’m not exactly inspired to paint a large portrait of you remembering to pick up milk on the way home.”

“I don’t know that’s a pretty grand gesture.”

“I’m sure for you it is.”

Brian was losing patience. “What the fuck? Did we go back to me being an asshole?”

“No, I think that’s my job these days.”

“You’re not an asshole.”

“I know, I’m fucking with you.”

“Okay.”

“I also know you’re mad.”

“Not mad.”

“Then what?”

“You know what, can we skip to the middle of this conversation.”

“We’ve never gotten that far.”

“I know, because you storm off at the beginning.”

“I’ll stick around eventually.”

“Do we have enough time to wait 'til eventually?”

“Why the fuck wouldn’t we?”

“Last time I let this go the results sucked.”

“Yeah, but we’re not looking at anything like that anymore.”

“I know, this is different.”

“I’m fine.”

“I’m seriously gonna ban that word again.”

“I’m seriously not gonna humor your little power trips anymore.”

They were both sitting quietly. Brian was trying to figure his next move. He had to be so fucking careful these days. “Okay, no power trips, but you know that I’m… concerned.”

“Yeah, but there’s no reason to be.”

“Bullshit.”

“Brian.”

“Don’t.”

“Brian I am fine. I’m just dealing with some shit.”

“Shit you don’t want to share with me.”

“It’s not that kind of thing.”

“Not what kind of thing?”

“Not a major life threatening, life altering kind of thing.”

“Do you think that’s the only kind of situation in your life that interests me?”

“No, I think if I let you you’d be perfectly happy to micromanage my life but I also happen to think that’s my job.”

“Okay, but do I get to at least know what’s going on with your job.”

“Brian do you tell me every stupid thing that happens at the office every day?”

“No, my goal isn’t to put you to sleep halfway through my description of the ten thirty meeting.”

“Well my days lately, are a lot like the ten thirty department head meeting, they’re boring, pointless, uneventful and for the most part a waste of time.”

“Your days are a waste of time?”

“Lately, yeah. The contractors need some specs on the desk, but I can’t give them that until I have the dimensions down which I can’t do until I figure out about the window seat. It’s all VERY exciting.”

Brian laughed. “So that’s what’s bothering you… the window seat.”

“Sure.”

“Wanna tell me what’s really going on?”

“This is where I leave Brian. I’m trying to tell you nothing’s wrong.”

“Nothing?”

“I’ll figure it out.”

“So it’s something.”

“It’s nothing.”

“You know what I love?”

“Sex, alcohol, good weed…”

“I was gonna say circular conversations I’ve had several times.”

“Oh, you were going for irony.”

“No, I really love these. It’s like a puzzle… I get a little further each time.”

“Brian, there’s no where to go. You think there’s somewhere further to go, but there isn’t anything wrong, so there’s no where for this conversation to go but in circles.”

“Here’s the problem with that. I don’t believe you.”

“Then fuck off.”

“Ooh, the part where you curse at me… if we go for a few more minutes we might hit new territory.”

Justin let out a long sigh and turned his focus back to his sketchbook. “There is no new territory.”

“Guess which part we’re at now.”

“The part where you ask me about my therapy sessions.”

“So you’ve been here too…I think I recognize that tree.”

“Shut up.”

“Tell me what’s wrong.”

“I’m a drama queen.”

“I know that.”

“No, that’s what’s wrong.”

“It’s actually kinda cute sometimes.”

“Mmmmmm hmmm, you only think that when we’re not mid drama.”

“Well, your drama princess routine doesn’t always require an actual drama.”

“No shit.”

“So what non drama are we dealing with.”

Justin took a deep breath. “Are you ready to laugh?”

“More than you know.”

“We’re dealing with the fact that there IS no drama.”

“What?”

“No drama. You and me, we’re good.”

“Yeah.”

“Ranston says that the next show, in November is pretty much set, I just have to keep sending him stuff, and people are buzzing loudly still, about the December show, so he can sell whatever crap I send.”

“These are good things.”

“That’s what I’m saying.’

“I’m feeling better. The crying thing is pretty much under control. Hell, even my hand has been cooperating lately.”

Brian was suddenly hyper aware of the change in Justin’s breathing. He placed his palm flat against Justin's back again. Justin twisted his body trying to dislodge it. 

“Brian stops that. I know what you’re doing.”

“What?”

“You pretend to me Mr. Physical touch supportive guy, but you’re just checking to see if I’m breathing or having a panic attack.”

Brian withdrew his hand, but not before noticing Justin’s heart was racing. “That’s not why I do it.” 

Justin shot him a withering look. “Not the ONLY reason I do it.”

“No, you’re also checking to see if I’ve lost weight.”

“Did it ever occur to you that I just like touching you.”

“There’s a difference. I know when you’re touching me because you want to. This is you monitoring me like I’m some sort of invalid.”

“I don’t think you’re an invalid.”

“No you think I’m mentally unstable.”

“No I don’t.”

“You think I’m batshit insane.”

“You are, but that’ doesn’t mean you’re mentally unstable.”

“Wow, we really are working from different dictionaries.”

“So before you changed the topic to me touching you… I think we were getting to what’s got you all quiet and mopey lately.”

“Brian, I’m not quiet or mopey. The problem is more complicated than either of us could deal with. It has to do with this bizarre connection we have.”

“Okay, you’re insanity is showing. You stopped making sense.”

“Do you know why you’re worried about me?”

“Because you’ve been quiet and mopey.”

“But I haven’t.”

“Yes you have.”

Justin leaned his head back as if begging some unknown deity to give him the patience to get through this conversation.”

“Brian, are we in mid crisis?”

“No, unless what you’re not telling me is a crisis that I don’t know about.”

“There. Is. No. Crisis.”

“Good.”

“Is it really good?”

“Of course.”

“Then why are you sure there’s something wrong?”

Brian shrugged.

“Brian, I’m fine, and you’re fine, and that right now is the fundamental thing that’s wrong with us… we don’t know how to be without a crisis.”

“Sure we do.”

“No we don’t… we’re having an issue, right now, and it’s because I’m not falling apart and neither are you.”

“So the problem is there’s no problem.”

“Yes.”

“Well, we can fix that.”

Justin looked up… “We can?”

“Sure, lets create a problem.”

Justin smiled for the first time that day. “Okay, what kind of problem?”

“You pick.”

“I think it’s been my choice for the last two or three crises…your turn.”

“Okay, I could start seriously hitting the clubs again.”

Justin wrinkled his nose. “Boring, and I don’t have an issue with that as long as you don’t wrap your car around a tree again.”

“You could find some brilliant rich sugar daddy to sweep you off your feet.”

“Have one of those.”

“Oh yeah.”

“I know, I could cultivate an addiction. Or an eating disorder.”

“Let’s pass on that one.”

“We could have a massive fight over what to do about the stables. I still think we should get horses and a groom.”

“And I think since neither of us ride, you’re insane.”

“I could go really insane, like hallucinating and shit…”

“No.”

They were silent for a while, but this time the silence was comfortable. Brian was the first to break it. “So you’re okay, and this quiet isn’t a calm before the storm, or the eye of the storm, it’s what it’s like to be normal?”

Justin moved closer to Brian then. Kissing him lightly on the corner of his mouth. “We’re normal…how’s that for a crisis.”

Brian smiled and wrapped his arms around Justin. “I think I need to get my mind off the horrors.” He pushed Justin backwards a little and watched amused as Justin flopped back dramatically, “oh no, sex with my…Brian for no reason other than boredom and his insatiable libido. Woe is me.”

Brian laughed and flattened Justin to the floor. “It’s okay Justin. I know us. We’ll have a crisis soon I promise.”

Justin smiled back. “I sooo wish I didn’t believe you…”

And then his mouth was busy doing other things, and the blood was nowhere near his brain.


	14. Remember This?

* * *

****

Slices Of Seven  
Chapter XIV  
Remember This?

* * *

“Hmmm. That explains a lot.”

Justin looked up from his book. Brian was scrolling down a page on the computer. “A lot about what?”

“Hmmm? Oh nothing.”

Justin wasn’t buying it. Brian was looking at him oddly. “What’s up?”

“Nothing.”

Justin stood up and looked over Brian’s shoulder reading. “Fuck.”

Brian laughed.

“Did I do that?”

“I don’t know.”

“How can you not know?”

“Well, you’re always weird.”

“Yeah but I think you’d notice this.”

“Okay maybe you did it a couple of times but I swear to god I didn’t know.”

“How could you NOT know?” Justin punched him a little harder than usual in the arm.

“Ow.”

“Sorry, but you’re telling me you couldn’t tell?”

“I’m telling you I was half asleep, then I wake up and there’s a horny twink riding me… I’m supposed to question it?”

“Well… did I do anything really weird?”

“You decided to clean the oven at four in the morning once.”

“I did?”

“Yeah, I thought you were insane. Turns out I was right.”

“Brian this is serious! What else did I do?”

Brian seemed suddenly reluctant to talk.

“Brian.”

“Don’t worry about it?”

“Oh that’s gonna work.”

“Justin calm down.”

Justin was pacing now. “What if you were asleep and didn’t notice. What if I went out and was driving or something… Brian this is serious.”

“You didn’t go anywhere.”

“How do you know?

“I know everything.”

“Shut the fuck up. You don’t know.”

“I know.”

“Brian.”

“I know okay. I saw you wake up, you tried to leave once…I brought you back to bed.”

“I tried to leave?”

“Yeah, you were going to school.”

“To school?”

Brian shrugged, “you were crazy.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Yeah, you were in such a good place to deal with shit.”

“I deserved to know.”

“Well, now you do.”

“What else did I do?”

“You really don’t remember?”

“Why do you look relieved?” Justin was suddenly suspicious.

“I’m not, I’m just surprised.”

“At what?”

“I didn’t know you didn’t know.”

“Grrr Brian we’re talking in circles.”

“I know.”

“What did I do?”

“Nothing. You didn’t do anything.”

“You’re lying.”

“Yeah I am.”

Justin grabbed Brian's arm and pulled him out of the desk chair. “You have to tell me everything. What I did, what you did. What I said.”

“You didn’t say much.”

“Brian.” Justin pulled him down onto the couch and turned to face him. “You have to tell me.”

“Lets just say you’re very… aggressive.”

“Aggressive?”

“Dominant even.”

“Brian, you’re saying I…”

“Yeah, I figured you just thought you had a better chance if you caught me off guard and half asleep.”

“Pfft, like I need to work that hard to fuck you.”

“You think I’m that easy?”

“I know you are. How often?”

“not THAT often.”

“How often.”

“Mostly you just did weird stuff like reorganize the bathroom cabinet. And once you moved all the stuff from the fridge into the dishwasher.”

“I did?

“Have I mentioned I just thought you were insane?”

“But the other times?

“You were hot.”

“How hot?”

“Pretty fucking hot.”

“I can’t believe I can’t remember.”

“I can’t believe it either.”

“And you never said anything.”

“You never mentioned it, I figured you just didn’t want to talk about it.”

“When have I ever not wanted to talk about something?”

“Can I repeat the part where I thought you were going insane?”

“I’m not taking them again.”

“Well that’s a relief.”

“Brian, what if…”

“Justin stop.”

“But…”

“Stop.”

“But…”

Brian leaned in and kissed him. “You want a re enactment, so you can remember what you missed?”

Justin smiled and Brian remembered why he’d never put up much of a fight on the nights Justin woke up aggressive.

* * *

> CHICAGO (Reuters) - Strange behavior by insomniacs taking prescription drugs, ranging from binge eating to having sex while asleep, have raised safety questions about anti-insomnia medications like Sanofi-Aventis' Ambien Researchers are studying cases where insomniacs taking Ambien got up in the middle of the night, then remembered nothing of their actions  
> 

* * *

[ Here's the whole article](http://news.yahoo.com/s/nm/20060315/ts_nm/insomnia_dc)


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